


Pierce the Sky

by antigrav_vector



Series: (R)BB fics - all pairings [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: ALL OF THE CAMEOS, AU - Fantasy, Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Soulbonds, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Conflicts of interest, Dragons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Torture, Intrigue, M/M, Magic, Mission Fic, Missions, Missions Gone Wrong, Multi, POV Multiple, POV shifts, Politics, Presumed Dead, Rescue Missions, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Slow Burn, Soul-Searching, conflicting oaths, conflicting obligations, griffons, hurt pepper potts, injuries, so many minor characters jfc, v-style relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:24:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 37,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: When Laman Stark, king of the dragons, gets caught in an avalanche on his way to negotiate a military alliance with the griffons, it falls to his queen, his Premier Advisor, and his General to keep the kingdom running.The problem is... well, there are lots of problems: Hydra are massing on their southern border, acting like they want to provoke another war; with their king missing and presumed dead, everyone with a chance to seize the throne is plotting to do it; and the dragons may be powerful in their own right, but they don't have the numbers -- or the allies -- to hold back the Hydra on their own.That's when things get truly murky.





	1. [Tony]

**Author's Note:**

> Posted with thanks to lots of people:  
> \-- first and foremost, everyone who listened to me whine and moan about how long and complicated this got  
> \-- my test readers, who kept boosting my ego, when I was convinced the whole thing was crap  
> \-- my beta-readers [dapperanachronism](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperanachronism/pseuds/dapperanachronism), [Kalashia](http://kalashia.tumblr.com/), and Atsadi
> 
> Link to the art is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11034807)

Tony surveyed his workshop. The whole area was in disarray, thanks to his preparations for the talks with the griffons. There was unrest in the southern reaches of the kingdom, and as hereditary leader of the dragons, he needed to find a way to bring things under control.

Every so often the Hydra in the swamps beyond the southern border got aggressive , and tried to attack, thanks to their lingering resentment over their sound defeats during the last two Wars. Both had been led by his sire and Obie, and that factored heavily into the Hydra hatred of him in particular.

That hatred meant he needed to be especially careful anytime he traveled far from his capital city. He was safe enough inside his own borders, but outside them there was always a chance that he would be attacked. Hydra generally stuck to their swamps, but could travel far from their home territory, and sometimes did, for the purpose of springing ambushes. Rhodey had been caught in one, a few years back, just after his knighting.

Shaking off the thoughts, he started putting away the most dangerous projects, which only he and his bots were allowed to handle. A lot of the things he worked on could kill if not handled just right, even if it was a dragon messing around with things. He definitely didn't want Pepper, who was full human, or Obie, who wasn't, to get themselves injured or killed as a result of his carelessness.

"Sir," JARVIS prompted, "if you do not make haste your escort will likely begin searching for you."

Making a face, Tony shoved the last project -- a renewable power source he'd been toying with to replace the inefficient one his sire had designed decades ago -- into an iron-bound box and locked it up tight. The iron immediately dampened the sensation of warmth coming from the magic infusing the device, and Tony's hands suddenly felt cold, just from touching the box. Iron muted magic, and he used it to keep a lot of his projects isolated from the environment when he wasn't actively working on them.

 

In a very literal way, magic was in his blood, and that of every other dragon. While humans bled iron red, he didn't. He bled blue, thanks to the copper in his blood, and a lot of the humans he'd met that had never been around dragons were a bit confused and frightened by that. To them, blue blood meant sickness or death. The iron flowing through their veins kept all but the strongest human mages from even realising they had power, though, so Tony was personally of the opinion that dragons had gotten the better end of that deal.

"Tell Rhodey I'll be right there."

A resigned sigh answered him, and it didn't come from JARVIS. "I should've known you'd still be in here, Tones."

"Had to clean up a few things, buddy," Tony shot back at his best friend.

"Yeah? Well, hurry your scaly ass up," Rhodey replied, crossing his arms impatiently. "You don't want to be late to your meeting with the ambassadors and lose this chance for an alliance before you've said a word."

Grumbling wordlessly, more or less under his breath, Tony obeyed. He didn't like it, but Rhodey had a point.

\------

The dragons among them were traveling in their human forms, having chosen to do so in order to have the use of their hands and the chance to blend in more. There was little sense in advertising exactly who was who, at this point in their journey, and having their hands free, so to speak, was a definite advantage where it came to navigating the rougher terrain. Not all dragons could fly, after all, and waiting for them to make the hike wasn't an option. It was just simpler to put everyone on horseback.

Tony surveyed the narrow road that wound up into the mountains and growled under his breath.

Rhodey chuckled at him. "You know that won't make the weather better, right?"

"Your point?"

"You really might as well save your anger for the coming war and our enemies." Rhodey nodded sagely, as though that were somehow advice worth imparting and not common sense.

Not that Tony particularly cared about common sense right now. "Didn't the weather mages predict clear skies?"

"They're not always right," Carol put in. "You know how unpredictable conditions in the mountains can be. You've made this trip before."

Huffing at her and taking a perverse sort of pleasure in the way her blonde hair was slicked down by the rain, making her look a bit like a drowned rat, Tony grumbled wordlessly. "Doesn't mean I have to like it. It's slowing us down and there's a good chance we'll run into trouble."

It had been two days -- a day longer than it should have -- since Rhodey had pulled him away from his workshop, and the weather had not been cooperating. It had been raining lightly but steadily throughout their trip, and they were all soaked to the skin, despite all their best efforts. Luckily, it took quite a lot to get dragons sick, thanks to the magic flowing through their veins, but the human members of the entourage were starting to suffer from the cold and damp. Tony had spotted Rhodey with his hands stuffed under his arms more than once, despite his friend's generally strict adherence to etiquette.

Tony and his compatriots were uncomfortable, many of those who ran hotter thanks to their abilities tending to wince away from the rain and huddle in their cloaks. Generally speaking, the fire-breathers preferred warmer climates, and were less than thrilled about snowy mountain ranges. They could and would tolerate them, but they invariably got very grumpy if they had to. Thanks to his own mixed parentage, Tony was less affected than Carol, his General's Bonded. 

"No, you don't," Carol agreed, breaking into his thoughts. "And you're probably right about the trouble, but there's nothing we can do about it now except keep a close watch."

Rhodey nodded. "While we're in the pass, I intend to double the guard," he said. "And you, my king, are staying in the middle of the escort for the duration. Not with the vanguard."

That was going to bore him to tears. "But--"

"No arguments." Rhodey cut him off. "I'm sure you can keep yourself entertained for a day."

Tony grumbled a few curses under his breath. "No promises."

He looked back up at the winding switchback road that climbed up the side of the mountain. It loomed before their party, feeling like it was overshadowed by ravens' wings, the way the dark clouds clung to the horizon despite the winds. Thus far, nothing more had happened, but something about the mountain pass ahead seemed foreboding. But without anything stronger and more concrete to go on than instinct and a hunch, he couldn't give the order to turn back, and choosing a different route would result in even more of a delay than they'd suffered so far.

Rhodey didn't say anything about it either, and his General's instincts for this sort of thing were second to none, so Tony tried his best to put his unease aside. They'd heard reports from the patrols in the region that the outlaws in the mountains had been active again in recent weeks, now that the snows in the highest passes had receded enough to make them possible to navigate, but Rhodey seemed to be confident that they could handle any attack from that quarter.

If anything, Rhodey was more concerned about the Hydra attack brewing in the areas around Mahlibhu, and Tony really couldn't disagree with the assessment, given the reports they'd been getting from that quarter. Biting back the frustrated sound that tried to escape, Tony turned his attention back to his surroundings. Rhodey and Carol offered him salutes as they made their way back along the column, giving out orders to the men as they passed.

\------

The feeling of foreboding only intensified as they climbed the mountain pass. Rhodey and Carol led the force, with Tony as near to the middle of the column as they could force him to stay. 

During the portion of the trip that had wound through the flatlands surrounding the capital and the rolling hills that had gradually become foothills and low mountains, Tony had spent most of his time riding just behind the vanguard with Rhodey and Carol. Now he felt hemmed in and bored. Neither was a feeling he tolerated well, even in situations like this where he knew it could very well be necessary to the whole party's survival.

When it happened, it was abrupt and no one could do a damned thing.

One of the many boulders that were scattered along the length of the pass seemed to groan as they approached, the dirt and gravel around it shifting under its weight. The rain had loosened the mountain's grip on the massive rock that leaned out over the road, but there was no other way past it. On their right hand was steep mountain unclimbable by the horses, and on their left a nearly sheer drop. Rhodey eyed the boulder warily as he approached, and so did Carol.

The vanguard got past safely, though, and everyone seemed to exhale quietly in relief.

There was another rumbling groan just as Tony and the two or three rows of guards around him passed; before anyone could react, it broke free with a loud crack and fell, dragging Tony and at least five of his best men down the mountainside.

Shouts went up as they fell. Tony caught a glimpse of Carol throwing herself off her horse, as he went tumbling in the landslide that the heavy stone tore with it as it rolled inexorably and unevenly down the mountain. It didn't take much to dizzy and disorient him, what with the many smaller rocks pelting him and the rough impacts of his body against what passed as the ground. It was all he could to not to let the mass of mud and stone bury him alive.

There was a brief moment where Tony thought he might even be able to get out of this without truly injuring himself. Thought he might be able to shift and dig out the others that had been dragged downslope with him. Then his arm got caught between two boulders larger than his torso and broke with a shock of pain that sent darkness rushing up to claim him.

\------

When he woke, he had no idea how much time had passed, and he felt as though he might fall into dust and drift away on the wind. His arm throbbed with a pain that meant it had been set but not treated further, and gingerly testing it nearly made him pass out again. He squeezed his eyes shut with a hiss and clenched his teeth. The effort left him weak, sweating, and gasping for air, but aware when the pain subsided to manageable levels again.

He didn't let himself do more than breathe for several long minutes, and do his best to ride out the pain that spiked with each beat of his heart.

It made for a very effective distraction and kept him from noticing the ... _thing_ ... embedded in his skin over his sternum, for a while. It was only when he reached for his magic that he realised he had a real problem. It only responded very sluggishly and felt more like a trickle of water than the warm pool it usually resembled.

The knowledge sent a spike of panic through him, and he tried to sit up.

"Hey, no," someone said as hands fell to Tony's shoulders to pin him to whatever surface he found himself on, "don't move. You need to heal."

Tony couldn't manage to do more than thrash weakly and growl at whoever had spoken.

"Stark, listen to me," the unknown man tried again, "you must be calm, or you will dislodge that magnet in your chest and _die_."

The urgency and concern in the man's voice got through where the words hadn't, and Tony did try to relax the tension in his muscles. It didn't work well, but was apparently enough to satisfy the stranger.

"Where am I? And who are you?"

The questions got a derisive snort. "My name is Yinsen and my task is to keep you alive. As for where you are," Yinsen shrugged. "I can't answer that, as I do not know, myself, but I can tell you this: you are in the hands of the Ten Rings."

That was a name Tony recognized. Rhodey had gotten word that they were active in the area of the mountain pass they had been attempting to cross.

Shit, _Rhodey_.

His General was probably going insane looking for him, unless he'd already been declared dead. Well, at least control of the kingdom would devolve to Pepper and Obie in the event of his death, actual or otherwise. He had confidence that those two would keep things running smoothly.


	2. [Tony]

He had no idea how long it had been. It felt like weeks, but time seemed to pass in fits and starts. They were kept underground, in one of the rare limestone caves in the mountain range, and far from sunlight. The lighting was dim, and stayed constant day and night alike, supplied by a sole magelight that Tony was fairly sure Yinsen had put in a corner of the little cul-de-sac they were kept in.

Tony had no doubt that their captors knew about the little magelight and ignored it. A pair of low ranked goons checked on them twice a day, and brought them their minimal allowances of food and water. Yinsen pleaded with them for medical supplies every time they showed up, and was ignored just as often.

It was only when he pointed out that Tony's condition wasn't improving that they got so much as a single bandage.

After that, Tony felt somewhat more lucid. Somehow Yinsen persuaded someone -- Tony had no idea who, through the haze of pain and fever -- to get them some real painkillers and a small supply of the good medicines, the ones that actually worked on dragons. Tony had no idea how that had come to pass, since those were very carefully regulated even within his borders.

On the other hand, they allowed him surcease from the pain of his broken arm and the magnet Yinsen had forcibly put in the muscle of his chest. During one of his clear-headed moments, Yinsen told him that some fragments of iron-laced rock had punctured his chest wall as the avalanche tumbled him down the side of the mountain. The fragments were iron-rich enough to interfere with his magic and sharp enough to cause more damage if left to settle where they wished in his torso. 

Worse, picking the fragments out had been impossible, with the extremely limited supplies that had been provided for Tony's treatment. Left to choose between losing Tony's life if one of the fragments had wound up in Tony's veins, and effectively turning his sternum into an electromagnet, Yinsen had chosen the latter.

Tony was privately of the cynical opinion that the decision was heavily influenced by the fact that Yinsen knew he would die if Tony didn't survive.

Possibly more worrisome still, was Tony's sure knowledge that Yinsen could tell he had no Bonded. Could see that he was a half-finished shell of a dragon. It showed in the way Yinsen carefully dosed the medicines they had -- Tony could tell he was rationing them, even through the haze that the pain and the medicines had thrown over him -- and assumed that he would heal slowly, if at all.

Sure, his sire had gone centuries before finding his Bonded, and Obie still hadn't. It wasn't as though there was no precedent. Finding someone suitable was difficult, and then even if someone was suitable that didn't mean they would accept the role.

Dragons couldn't bond with just anyone, after all. It had to be someone whose abilities and opinions complemented theirs, rather than someone who would agree with everything they said or thought. That ensured it would be a true partnership, whose members balanced each other out. That was difficult to find, and many dragons went decades without finding anyone.

That had consequences, too; a dragon was much more susceptible to injury and sickness alone. Bonded pairs lived longer healthier lives, and both healed faster thanks to the bond itself. That was a fact that not many knew outside his borders. The dragons were close-lipped about it, and their Bonded were taught to be as well.

The thing was, though, that what Yinsen knew, the Ten Rings likely knew as well. Tony had no idea what had happened or been said during those long hours or maybe days or weeks that he'd been lost in whatever fever dreams his mind had cooked up.

* * *

When the fever finally broke and left him lying on his pallet, shivering and sweat-soaked, Tony blinked up at the roof of their little 'cell', and tried to work out what would be next. The skin around the magnet had more or less healed, but his arm was still out of commission, and reaching for his magic left him dizzy, even when he was lying flat on his back.

Something to do with those rock fragments, he suspected. Or possibly the large hunk of iron that the magnet represented. Whatever the cause, though, it was clear that he couldn't shift, and odds were good he wouldn't be able to use his magic to build anything, either, once he got out.

If he got out.

Tony was enough of a realist to know that he'd probably been missing for way more than a week, even if he had no idea how long it had been. It was likely that no one was looking for him anymore, if they'd even been able to stay long enough to search in the first place. If he'd had any tactical sense left in his head after that avalanche, Rhodey would have immediately set out for home, since that entailed picking a different mountain pass and the nearest one was three days' travel to the north of this one.

Maybe if Tony was lucky, Rhodey would have set out for home and deputized a small force to search while he traveled with all haste for the capital. 

But even if he had, that force would have given up the search after a few days and gone home to join their General.

"Stark?" Yinsen asked carefully. "Can you hear me?"

"What?" Tony was confused, and the rasp in his voice suggested he hadn't had anything to drink in a long time.

"Answer the question." Yinsen demanded, stress making his voice suddenly harder. "Do you understand?"

Even more puzzled than before, Tony did. Yinsen was his sole ally in this place, even if Tony couldn't count on the guy's loyalty. "I-- yeah, I hear you."

Keeping his voice pitched low enough that Tony almost had to strain to hear him, Yinsen replied, "Good. The iron-rich fragments of rock in your body -- and the iron magnet I was forced to use to keep them from killing you -- are going to cause you a lot of pain. You will heal at a rate comparable to a human's and you won't be able to shift. Don't even think about trying to fly out of here. The cost to you in energy will be immense and you simply do not have the reserves to do that."

Somehow that didn't surprise him; he'd already guessed most of that. He felt rather like he'd gone several rounds with a rock golem while unconscious, too, and that was doubtless not too far from the truth. "So what happens now?"

"Now that you're lucid," Yinsen's expression went tight and grim, for all that his tone of voice never changed, "they will 'persuade' you to build them what they want. They know of your skill with designs that kill, whether or not they are meant to. It is well known that you will not allow others into your workshop for fear that they might get themselves killed. The Ten Rings want that; it matters not that your designs are intended to be used for power, or for healing. They lust after even those designs that do not require the use of magic to create. They want a means to rid themselves of anyone they deem troublesome. Be they human, griffon, hydra, or dragon."

Tony wanted to blast something into atoms.

The next time the goons showed up with their rations, someone new accompanied them, and Tony assumed it was because the news had somehow gotten out that he was awake.

It didn't take the guy long to piss Tony off. He stood over the pallet Tony had been given and commanded his goons to get Tony to his feet. The movement jostled his arm badly enough that he almost passed out again. When his balance and breathing had steadied, he'd given the guy a glare.

Visibly amused, the guy had started speaking in some language Tony didn't understand. Every so often he'd paused for Yinsen to translate. Upshot: as Yinsen had predicted, the Ten Rings wanted him to build them a weapon powerful enough to take out anyone they felt like, be it a griffon squad or a battalion of Hydra.

Seeing the demand for the opportunity it was, Tony glared at the guy while he tried to think clearly enough to plan. "I can't do that without my magic," he said slowly, trying his damnedest to sound cowed and weak, "I need more time to recover."

Yinsen translated, looking very disapproving and disappointed. The predictable demand came back: how long did he need?

Tony hesitated. Ask for too much time and they'd refuse, too little and he wouldn't be able to both plan and then put said plan into action. "I need ten days. Then I'll need tools and materials to build. And a workshop, if there is one. With actual light to see by."

This time Yinsen paused before he relayed the request. It was just the barest fraction of a breath, but Tony felt it the way he'd have felt a brush of feathers from one of the smaller winged dragon-kin on his skin, or the eagles who chose to roost with them during the harsh winter months. The stranger, who Tony assumed was highly ranked in the Ten Rings, gave him a long measuring look as Yinsen talked.

"He offers you five days and a set of tools delivered here," the translation came back.

Tony considered that. "Fine, but if my magic hasn't recovered, the tools won't help."

When Yinsen translated that, the Ten Rings' ... Tony was going to go with commander, the Ten Rings' commander shrugged.

"That is of no concern to me," Yinsen translated. "You will do it, or suffer the consequences."


	3. [Pepper]

To say that Pepper had been surprised by General Rhodes' early return, looking like he'd ridden three horses into the ground, would have been a bit of an understatement. It had sent her heart into her throat and she'd needed all the carefully cultivated reserve she could muster not to run up to him and wrap her arms around him. Her General looked utterly demoralised and bedraggled.

He saluted as crisply as he ever had, seeming to lean on protocol to keep his composure. "Maharani[1]."

"General," she replied in kind, forcing herself to summon up a small smile of welcome, "what news? We had not expected your return for another ten days."

The calm mask on Rhodes' face threatened to crumble. "The worst news," he said grimly, sounding like he was choking back a mix of rage and tears, "Laman[2] Stark was lost in a rockslide the Khyrghan pass. Our search parties could not find him, or the others swept along. I've deputised my Bonded to continue the search with a small party of men, since I was forced to return to your side. We must prepare for the war that is almost certain to begin in our southern reaches."

Pepper ducked her head to hide the tears that had sprung up, clouding her vision. The news had her at a loss for words.

Obadiah, who'd been positioned at at her back and to her left as was proper for the premier advisor of the kingdom, stepped in. "Thank you, General. Your loyalty and dedication to the kingdom are an inspiration to us all. Have a messenger sent to the search party; they are to keep looking for as long as it takes. Until we receive news that they have found his body, we cannot assume our Laman is truly dead."

With a sharp nod, Rhodes saluted again. "Of course, Sir." There was a brief pause as he drew breath, and then Rhodes continued. "Maharani," he said, "we must hold a proper war council, and prepare ourselves."

Getting herself under control, Pepper raised her head and did her best to force her expression calm. "You're right. We must assemble the Councilors and our remaining regional commanders. Have any more arrived since your departure, General?"

"I do not know, but I will find out. I felt it more appropriate to deliver my news in person." Rhodes bowed and turned, striding quickly toward the door.

Pepper watched him leave, wondering whether she would even have time to mourn, and what the coming weeks and months would bring.

With Tony gone, perhaps dead, and no heir to step in, authority over the dragons fell to Obadiah. The consequences of that were nearly impossible to parse. As Maharani, she traditionally and legally had authority over the human dragon-kin only as long as her Laman was alive.

When successions happened, the new Laman of the dragons would usually choose a new queen to rule by his side after a suitably long period of mourning. Sure, it had happened occasionally in the past that after a succession, the new Laman would wait to select a new queen until the previous one had pierced the skies to join her husband, but she doubted Obadiah would do that. Her premier advisor was too ruthless and cunning to allow sentiment to cloud his judgement. That was part of what made him an excellent premier.

But now, with the prospect of a throne and true authority dangling in front of him, she wasn't sure whether her premier's loyalty to her and Tony or his ruthlessness would win out.

Had there been an heir in the equation, she would have been able to keep her position until her heir's majority, by Law and Tradition, and govern both the human and dragon citizens of the kingdom. The fact that there was none and that Tony had no other living relatives meant that the throne was potentially in the grips of whoever was best positioned and most willing to spill blood to get it. 

It felt like a cold wind was bearing down on her.

First they had to find Tony. Everything depended on that. Possibly including her own survival. She was realistic enough to know that.

And on top of that, she and Rhodes would have to find a way to win this brewing war with the Hydra without Tony. It would have been a difficult enough task had Tony been here to help plan and organise -- he was surprisingly good at logistics -- but without him, it seemed like everything would fall apart at the seams before they could even field their troops.

Pepper refocused on the scene in front of her; scattered groups of 'noble' dragons and humans were clustered throughout the large audience chamber she'd been hearing grievances in when Rhodes had arrived. They were all talking quietly amongst themselves, picking apart what they'd heard and seen, no doubt. She knew the news would be everywhere before the day was out.

Which really only made it more imperative that they hold their war council before then.

"Premier," she turned to Obadiah, "please see to it that any remaining grievances are settled, then join us for the war council."

"Maharani," he acknowledged the request with a nod. "You may rely on me."

Her worries dogging her heels, she strode out of the hall with her back straight and her head held high. She’d be damned if she was going to show more weakness in public than she already had.

* * *

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maharaja  
[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lamane  
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_and_noble_ranks


	4. [Steve]

It had been nearly two weeks since the Laman of the dragons had been expected to arrive, and Steve was on edge. Even if their travels had been smooth, crossing the distance between the two capitals would have taken at least five days, had they been riding. That meant the Laman had likely been missing or dead for more than a fortnight.

The griffons and their Allies had always been a democratic nation, and it tended to take time to get them to agree on a course of action, but in this case they were all more or less of the same opinion. Either the dragons had snubbed them or something big had happened. The visit had been big news after the decades that their nation had spent isolating themselves so that the population could recover from the last war with the Hydra. No one knew much about the new dragon king, their Laman, but it was rumoured that he was a generous man and a fair one.

It was not news, on the other hand, that the outlaws in the mountains were getting restive again. Something had been stirring them up for months, though no one could seem to pin down exactly what that was. There had been correspondingly frequent reports of raids and thefts in the communities in the foothills.

Steve and his commandos were considered the de facto military leaders of their nation, the first among equals, as it were. They might not have any sort of direct command over anyone else, but on a political basis, their opinions had some weight. And their combined skill in tracking and fighting was well known, so if they said something or someone had been found, they were generally believed.

So they had been tapped for a mission to try to find out what had happened.

Currently, it was raining. Small stinging drops were driven by cold winds and almost hurt when they hit skin, somehow managing to penetrate right through armour and scale mail. Their campfire was flickering fitfully, struggling against the elements, even in the shelter of the large pair of boulders at its back. They'd picked the spot because it was a little more sheltered than the rest of the area, not that that was saying much. At least it had a few sparse trees as well. They served as a reasonably good windbreak and had provided the deadwood to get their campfire started. Gabe and Dumdum were attempting to heat up some food, and the others were fighting to set up their tents. Steve had been doing what he could to keep his tack clean and dry, and his mount and the others' fed. 

The group of griffons had accepted his attention as their due after a long day of flying, and then huddled together in a tight ball of fur and feathers under the trees.

Steve stretched with a quiet groan. It had been a long day, and some instinct told him it wasn't over yet.

Turning back to the small campfire and giving the tents a once-over to make sure they were properly secured against the wind, Steve checked on his commandos one by one. Gabe. Dumdum. Monty. Bucky. Jacques. Morita. Peggy.

Gabe, Dumdum and Monty were clustered around the cookfire, all attempting to make sure the food turned out the way they wanted it. That, naturally, meant three different opinions were being intensely but quietly debated. Jacques had ducked into his tent and was peeling his wet boots off with an expression of extreme distaste. Morita was watching him and trying not to laugh at the faces Jacques was making. Bucky and Peggy were keeping watch, scanning the road they'd followed to get here and the mountainsides looming over them.

"Any signs of movement?" Steve paused to inquire.

Bucky gave him a sardonic look. "We'd have sounded the alarm if there were."

"This is the right weather for an attack," Peggy put in, "but not the right time of day. It's still light enough to see anyone approaching. Whoever's on watch just before daybreak will have to be damned careful."

Steve nodded. He usually took that shift with Morita, and the others were grateful for it. "Got it. Have you picked out a position for the night watch that isn't right on top of the camp?"

"There isn't a good one," Bucky replied. "Every other likely spot but this one is very exposed. They'd see you a mile away. Possibly even before you see them."

"This'll do, then." Steve nodded, hearing the squabbling of the cooks die down behind him. "I'll go check on dinner."

A pair of rabbits they'd caught as they'd traveled up the pass supplied their meal that evening. It made for fairly small portions, but they were carrying enough dried meats and nuts to make up the difference. Steve picked up two portions for Peggy and Bucky and brought them over before he joined the others. Those commandos not on watch sat clustered around the small campfire as they ate, a companionable silence falling over them, brought on by tiredness and the welcome feeling of warmth that the food brought with it. The evening had been almost too quiet, a few last sleepy bird calls carried to them on the wind and the sound of the raindrops hissing against the fabric of their tents mixing with the low rumbled and chirrs of the griffons, and it was making Steve's instincts scream.

Something was about to happen; he just knew it.


	5. [Steve]

The calm was shattered by a surge of magic -- the likes of which Steve had never felt before -- that made every hair on his body stand on end, and a roar that made him think the mountainside was about to come down on them and bury them all alive.

Bucky shouted something, but Steve was too busy trying to clear his head and stop the roar echoing in his ears to parse the words.

Peggy grabbed him by the arm as he stumbled out to meet them. "Captain," she snapped at him in her crisp northern accent, "we need to find out what that was."

"Right. Did you see anything?" Steve asked, even as he turned back to the campsite to get his tack and hurriedly get it on his mount. "Commandos," he shouted at the others, who were fumbling their way out of their tents, everyone luckily still armoured up and ready for a fight, "mount up!"

"A column of blue flame," Bucky answered them both after a beat, as he got his own saddle situated and tossed Steve his shield, "and a bright flash. It came from the next valley to our east, I think. No idea what it was, but it was big. Proceed with caution."

With a nod, Steve caught his shield and leapt into his saddle, securing his flight harness. "We can come back for our tents and supplies later. We've seen no one on the road, and finding out what happened just now is important," he decided. "Unless one of you would like to volunteer to stay here."

Dead silence and a collective glare answered him.

"Well?" Peggy asked him, her tone sharp. "Are we going to just sit here all night?"

Giving her a wink and a grin, Steve settled his flight goggles in place and used a nudge of his knees to get his mount moving. Two long strides and a powerful leap later, they were in the air, and climbing. The chill and humidity of the air felt like it cut right through him, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it as best he could. They would be in the next valley shortly, and might have to fight for their lives, if whatever had happened turned out to be dangerous. "Commandos," he called, raising his voice to make himself heard over the rain and the distance between them, "form up on me for a search run!"

A chorus of ayes answered him, and Steve turned his attention to navigation. Flying in the mountains was treacherous by day, and near suicide in the darkness. The only saving grace of this little excursion was the lingering brightness of twilight and the short distance they needed to cover. 

Guiding his mount carefully higher until they cleared the ridge of rocky mountain slope that marked the border between the valley the road wound through and the next, Steve tried to keep an eye on everything. "Sound off if you spot anyone," he commanded, "whatever caused that blast can't have gotten far!"

No sooner had he finished the sentence than another roar shattered the air. The raw pain and fury in the sound sent a visceral shudder through Steve. This time the roar was not accompanied by the same surge of magic, but something about it had Steve on edge anyway, as though he could feel the emotions behind it. 

Peggy reacted first; she bent low over the neck of her mount and they dove for the ground. Gabe and Dernier followed, their weapons at the ready. Bucky, Dumdum, Morita, and Monty positioned themselves behind Steve, ready to follow him in on their teammates’ heels. 

Before they got far, the source of the sounds and the fury came into view -- a large dragon nearly four times the height of a man, and a suit of armour that drifted through the air beside it as though guarding it -- and Steve wanted to wince. This could get messy.

Peggy, Gabe and Dernier pulled up abruptly, not wanting to draw the dragon's ire, and Steve could only watch as it turned toward the trio. Blue flame licked at the armour's hands and streamed from its feet, more escaped the dragon's mouth and caressed its chest when it breathed.

There was a pause, as though everyone on the scene was drawing breath, and then the dragon seemed to _howl_ instead. Steve broke off his approach and watched as everyone scattered. The armour rose into the air, blue fire gathering over its palms and it arrowed up towards Peggy and her backup.

"Bucky!" Steve shouted.

"I see it!" Bucky called back, sighting along his bow carefully.

When he loosed the shot, it flew true, lodging itself in the armour's left palm. It turned toward him, giving him an almost irritated look, and the dragon followed suit, sending a gout of blue flame at Bucky. Their sharpshooter yelped, and signaled his mount to drop vertically down.

Thanks to his quick reaction, he came away a trifle singed but unhurt. "I am not trying that again," he grumbled as he fell in beside Steve.

Peggy, Gabe and Dernier followed suit, breaking off their attempts to get close and forming up on Steve.

A second roar, this one in a slightly higher register, resounded through the valley, then.

"Captain," Peggy said when the echoes had died down enough, "one dragon would be difficult enough to face down. I would not recommend trying to deal with _two_."

The armour, which had returned to the dragon's side after they had retreated, was still turned toward them, though the dragon was scanning the horizon and giving off what felt to Steve like a welcoming sense of 'here I am, friend, come get me'.

Steve watched the dragon warily as his team set up a perimeter -- they didn't need the pair of them blundering down into the foothills and accidentally burning down a few settlements along the way -- and wondered how the hell he'd known what the meaning behind that roar had been. He didn't speak dragon.


	6. [Pepper]

Pepper surveyed the council chamber as she swept in. Rhodes and his second, Lt. Gen. Jessica Jones, were waiting for her, with their aide de camp, Peter Parker, standing behind them.

No one else was here yet.

Biting back a stressed growl of frustration, Pepper crossed the room to greet them. She'd expected Obadiah to take a while to join them, since he was dealing with the petitions and grievances she'd had to set aside to deal with this, but the other council members should have arrived by now. She'd taken the time to have her maid help her out of her robes of state and into something more suited to a war council.

"Maharani," Jones bowed as she approached. "It is a relief to find you in good health."

Rhodes snorted, amusement lightening his expression for a moment. "Were she not, Jones, our situation would be dire."

Pepper hid a wince. "Pray that does not come to pass," she muttered, then raised her voice. "I am glad you both are here. We shall need every scrap of loyalty, determination, and ingenuity to get through this."

Parker nodded, though he kept his silence. Pepper liked the boy, but he was young, and she could not be seen to play favourites publicly. Someone of his rank was seen-but-not-heard in the council chamber, for all that Pepper and Tony both disagreed with that ridiculous notion. The thought sent a pang through her that seemed to lodge in her chest. Tony. If only he were here. Or, better yet, safely arrived for the negotiations with the griffons.

Before Rhodes or Jones broke the short silence that had followed her words, several sets of footfalls announced the arrival of several of her missing council members. The door swung open and Pepper stepped over to her seat at the head of the table but didn't seat herself. Tony's chair stood empty to her left.

The trio that had entered the room -- her spymaster Natasha, Aldrich Killian, her advisor on financial matters, and Justin Hammer, their 'expert' on weapons and development (much to Tony's eternal disgust) -- made up the remainder of the council that had been called. Pepper privately thought the two men were asses and entirely self-absorbed, but there was no one she could voice those thoughts to besides Tony. Or possibly Rhodes.

"-- don't see what the fuss is all about," Hammer was complaining as he crossed the room to his chair. He was smart enough not to continue, though. "Maharani," he acknowledged her.

The way he was looking at her made her feel slimy. Pepper hated it. "Councilor," she replied, then took her seat.

Everyone else followed suit. When they were all settled, she addressed the group of them. "As all of you are no doubt aware, Laman Stark is missing and we do not know whether he yet lives." She bit back her near-instinctive fury at the well-hidden looks of satisfaction on Killian and Hammer's faces. "In his absence, we must keep the kingdom safe and prepare ourselves for the war he suspected was brewing."

"Maharani," Killian interjected, "there is no proof that this war will come."

The door of the council chamber opened once more, and Pepper looked up, surprised. She hadn't expected Obadiah to join them so soon. Only once the door had swung wide, did anyone enter, and the sight nearly brought a smile of relief to Pepper's face. She had invited Thor, but not expected him to join them.

"Maharani," he beamed at her, his low booming basso filling the room and reminding her of rolling thunder, "I thank you heartily for your invitation to join this council of war."

"Thor," she couldn't resist the slight smile as she replied, "we thank you for coming and offering your wisdom."

Another ally in the room was never a bad thing, Pepper reflected. She had few enough of them. She could count on Rhodes and Jones, and Natasha. Thor had been known to be a bit ... impulsive, but his heart was in the right place. The others, though. Killian and Hammer were as likely to try to sabotage her as help her keep her throne or keep the kingdom free of Hydra.

"What business have you here?" Killian challenged Thor openly. "You are not of this kingdom or our army. This does not concern you."

Thor glared at him, the expression a clear invitation for Killian to continue. "My business here is not for you to question, sir," he replied. "I was invited. That is reason enough for me to be present."

"Prince Thor is our ally and experienced in warfare," Pepper added, to shut the moron up before he got himself challenged to a duel he would lose. "You would do well to recall that, Councilor. Please do not insult our guests."

She wouldn't really have minded being rid of him, but the political repercussions would have been far-reaching, had she allowed Thor to kill the idiot. Killian reared back as though he'd been slapped, but didn't open his mouth again. Hammer looked like he was considering saying something, then thought better of it.

"General Rhodes," Pepper turned to her army's leader as Thor seated himself beside Killian with a smile that invited the man to comment and get smacked down again, "please give us your report and suggested plan of action."

His expression carefully neutral, Rhodes did as she'd requested, standing to address the assembled company and clearing his throat before he began speaking. "Of course, Maharani. Laman Stark has been developing measures to allow the kingdom to defend against the attack he felt is building in the south. Based on the reports of increased Hydra activity that we have been receiving from our outposts in the region, my assessment is that he was correct on that score. However, none of the defense measures that he was working on was completed before our attempted journey to open negotiations with the griffons. This would not be a problem, save that our army is not strong enough to easily gain victory against the Hydra without aid. Without the assistance of the griffons, we may well be overwhelmed as a result of our low numbers."

There was a short pause while Rhodes allowed the room to think that over, then he went on. "Every dragon may be worth a score of men, or even two scores, but that matters not when they can only be in one place at a time."

"What would you suggest, then?" Natasha spoke up for the first time.

Rhodes nodded at Thor. "Would your people consider coming to our aid, Prince Thor?"

There was a short silence as Thor thought that over. "I do not know. If our warriors did choose to join your forces, they would not swell your numbers much. We are, much as you, not a people that have numerous children, or a large army."

That was more or less what she'd expected he would say. Pepper nodded. "Our Premier has repeatedly voiced his opinion that the Hydra will not attack again for a number of years," she put in, "and I sincerely hope that he is correct, but we must consider the possibility that he may not be. Laman Stark felt we should prepare, and that is likely the wisest course. I have no wish to act precipitously."

Hammer gave her an obsequious smile that made her want to rush off to soak in the hot springs on the lowest level of the citadel. "General Rhodes," he offered, turning to face the man, "I am happy to work with you and your men to outfit our units with the best weaponry on the market."

Rhodes' expression telegraphed resignation to her, but it was lost on the others in the room. "Please stop by my office in an hour."

Pepper was sure Rhodes would far rather have had Tony outfitting his men.

She felt the same.

Calling the meeting to an end, Pepper watched everyone disperse. "Agent Romanova," she stopped Natasha, "I would like a word, if I may."


	7. [Steve]

The second dragon, which came barreling down the valley from the upper areas of the pass, spotted them immediately. It roared, fury and outrage lacing the sound, and launched itself at Bucky, who happened to be closest.

With a startled yelp, Bucky and his mount shot skyward, dodging nimbly, and the rest of the team reacted. The dragon followed Bucky, jaws snapping closed instants too late to catch his mount's tail. Morita was the first to reach them, diving at the dragon and distracting it with slashes at its shoulders with his mount's claws.

The suit of armour joined the fray next, bodily tackling Morita's mount, sending them tumbling, and then firing some sort of blue beam of light at Peggy, who came to their aid.

Steve sent his mount arrowing toward the knot of fighters, feeling that this whole fight was unnecessary, though he couldn't have explained why. He just knew that he needed to stop it.

Whistling shrilly, he called the commandos off, and caught the newcomer's next attack on his shield. The force behind the blow sent him tumbling off his mount, his safety lines snapping like loose threads rather than the thick leather they were.

"Steve!" Bucky called out to him, swooping in, one arm extended.

Steve could see it happen in slow motion. Their fingers brushed, and then he was falling.

Resigning himself to whatever injuries his landing might cause, Steve hoped the rest of his team could get him--

He hit something hard and metallic with a pained grunt, and his shield clanged loudly against it. "You're a moron," the strange armour told him as Peggy arrowed right for them, intent on getting Steve back, "but your team is good. I'll give you that."

"What?" Steve didn't have time to say more before he felt himself thrown back into the air. His training kicking in, Steve made himself as limp as he could and reached out. He felt his hand smack solidly into Peggy's, and then she was clipping him in behind her.

The rest of the team was circling high above them, now, and the pair of dragons was all but coiled up in a tight ball together. 

"You alright," Peggy asked him, her tone making it more of a demand than a question.

"I'll feel this tomorrow, but I'm fine. The others?"

"No injuries." She glared down at the pair of dragons. "An apology would be nice," she shouted down at them.

The one who seemed to be controlling the strange armour made a sound approximating a wheezing chuckle. The other snorted, a cloud of smoke rising from its nostrils, and nuzzled at the first. After spending a few more moments comforting the first dragon -- Steve belatedly realised he could tell them apart easily for all that their coloring was identical -- the newcomer carefully pulled away and went... hazy.

A blonde woman in blue and red armour, a golden starburst centered on her breastplate, stood there when the haze disappeared. "I'll not apologize for defending the Laman," she replied in kind, and Steve about fell back off Peggy's mount in stunned surprise.

This was the missing dragon king?

"What in the names of all the gods is going on?" Peggy muttered, and guided her mount warily down toward the ground. "You're staying mounted, Captain," she added as they approached the woman and landed.

"Your name?" Steve called out to her, ignoring Peggy's protests and getting his feet on the ground. His own mount landed beside him a moment later, and Steve's hand automatically found its way into the feathers of its ruff. He felt a gentle nip at his ear a moment later and couldn't help the fond smile it brought to his face.

The armoured stranger gave him an appreciative once-over and grinned. "I'm Carol Danvers, Captain Handsome," she replied, clearly familiar with the rank insignia he wore, "mated to the Laman's Army General. Who might you be?"

Steve made a face at the new moniker she'd bestowed on him, drawing breath to answer. As he did, the strange armour drifted to land on the ground beside her. "Whoever he is," the man inside quipped, "he's good."

"Captain Steve Rogers of the Howling Commandos and ally to the First Eagles," he answered evenly, not sure he believed any of this but rapidly being won over by Danvers' frank honesty, "and wondering what is going on here."

"First things first," Danvers shook her head. "We need to--"

The Laman wavered on his feet and the armour collapsed to the ground. A half dozen or so meters of dragon followed it as the Laman reached the end of his own endurance.

"-- get somewhere less exposed," she finished. "That's a bad sign. I'm shifting back. Where can we take him? He needs medical attention and I can only carry him so far, even shifted. I'd take him home, but it's out of my reach."

Steve thought of their tiny campsite, and dismissed it immediately.

Peggy put in, "Go with them, Captain, and take Barnes with you. The others and I will deal with the campsite and meet you at the capital. It should be possible to get there if you make a straight flight and send Barnes on ahead to alert them to your arrival." 

He stepped up close to her and asked, voice low, "you believe them?"

"Truthfully," she replied, "I'm not sure, but you seem to, and I'll follow your lead."

It was true, he had to acknowledge, as Peggy guided her mount a few paces away, and then urged her into the air. He didn't feel a hint of deception in Danvers' responses, and even the dragon she claimed was the Laman had been fairly open. He still wasn't sure what to think about that man in the armour, but he seemed to be out cold.

He heard Peggy's voice ring out far above, though he couldn't make out the words. The rest of his team dispersed to follow orders as she finished, leaving only Bucky still circling high in the skies.

"Here," Danvers called out to him, shoving the man in armour at him and pulling him back out of his thoughts abruptly, "take this guy and mount him up behind you. I can only carry one."

Steve caught the armour awkwardly, and the helmet's chin caught on the shield strapped to his arm. When Steve tried to straighten the guy out, the helmet latches opened with a quiet ping, and the sight that met his eyes startled him. _The armour was empty._

"What the?" Steve stared at it for a long moment before Danvers, shifted again, growled at him. "Right, right," he muttered.

Getting himself settled as securely as he could without his safety straps to keep him in his saddle, and with the empty armour behind him, Steve patted his mount's shoulder. "Come on, girl," he told her, "let's go home."

The moment he was in the air, Danvers followed, her larger wings kicking up more turbulence than Steve's mount's. They staggered in the air a little, and Danvers backed off. Bucky met them halfway. "Cap! You alright?" He called.

"More or less," Steve shouted back. "You've got messenger duty. Get back to the capital, pronto, and let them know we're coming in with wounded. We'll need Wanda and any of the other healers we can get."

Bucky saluted without another word, raising a clenched fist to let him know the orders had been understood and accepted, then arrowed off southwest, bent low over his mount's neck.

Steve followed more slowly, not pushing his mount as hard, and felt Danvers take up position behind him and to his right. She was staying just slightly lower in the air, in deference to her greater bulk and the load she was carrying, doing what she could to make sure she didn't foul up his mount's lift.

The next few hours blurred together into what felt almost like a funeral procession, for all that no one was dead. The ominously dark clouds overhead gave the air an oppressive quality, and the light rain that started as they made their way down the mountain did its best to soak them and make them miserable.

As they entered the foothills, the rest of the Commandos joined them, forming up around them in a semblance of an honor guard. The thing was, Steve couldn't tell whom they were guarding. They were following his lead, but clearly not quite trusting of the pair of dragons in their midst. 

No one spoke, throughout the trip.

By the time they arrived at the capital, drenched down to their skins and weary, all Steve wanted was a hot soak and some rest, but first he needed to see to the wounded dragon they'd stumbled on.

Danvers had landed as gently as she was able, for she seemed to be as tired as the rest of them, but she hadn't shifted back into her human form. The Laman was still out cold, and Steve didn't know what to think of that.

Before he could begin to worry, though, Wanda and Jean appeared, briskly taking charge and directing Danvers to bring her wounded friend off to be treated.

Steve watched them go, feeling oddly numb. It was a surreal end to a long day, really.

Peggy stepped up beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. "You alright, Captain?"

"I'm not sure what just happened?"

She laughed at him, the sound sending a hint of warmth through him to settle behind his sternum, as it always did. "No one is, Steve," she said, foregoing formality for a moment, "but if that truly is the Laman, there is real trouble brewing."

Steve nodded. "Exactly."


	8. [Steve]

He'd been called on to report to the other wings making up the Assembly, and then dismissed, and he'd heard very little in the way of news in the two days that had since passed. Steve was getting anxious.

This time when he knocked on Healer Wanda's door, though, she answered. "Yes?"

Previously, she hadn't bothered to acknowledge him, or sent him packing immediately. Steve decided to take that as a good sign. He stepped into her small workspace, and stood there awkwardly for a beat, unsure what to say.

She gave him a look that said he was being transparent as glass. "Good morning, Captain. Your injured foundling is recovering and his friend is mothering him half to death. There is no need for you to do the same." 

Steve huffed at her. "Excuse me for caring what happens to those I assist."

Wanda laughed at him. "Oh," she riposted, "it is far more than that, and you know it as well as I do."

The comment made no sense, so Steve ignored it.

After a short pause, she went on. "He is yet tired, and cannot shift back due to magical interference that I cannot undo, so there is little use in trying to speak to him unless you find an interpreter."

Steve tried again. "The Assembly has called a meeting to determine what our course of action should be," he told her, "I need something to tell them."

"You could call on his friend," Wanda suggested, her tone a little too patient and the look in her eyes knowing.

Steve gave up on trying to get a straight answer out of her. "Maybe I will."

Danvers took one look at him when he entered the large recovery room where her friend was being treated and snorted. A puff of smoke rose from her nostrils, filling the room with a sulfurous smell for a moment and making Steve cough. Dragons.

When the urge to gag had passed, Steve dared take a slightly deeper breath and ask, "How's he doing?"

The shimmery haze he'd seen before, when they'd first met in the mountain pass, flowed over her again, and then Danvers was staggering slightly on her feet, clearly worn to the bone. "He yet lives," she said sending a shiver up Steve's spine that made his hair try to stand on end, "which is already more than any of us had dared hope. But he exhausted his magic in escaping whoever it was that held him, and defending himself thereafter."

"But he'll recover?"

Danvers didn't answer.

Steve felt another chill run through him, stronger than the first. "Will he?"

Danvers shrugged. "I know not. His magic fights against the intrusion of another's," she gestured to the brightly glowing blue circle Steve had noticed when they'd first found the dragon, "and poisonous iron fragments that your healers could not remove without harming him further."

The thought made a shudder of mixed emotion run through him, and Steve couldn't resist the urge to step over to the sleeping dragon to rest a hand on his snout. The scales were warmer and smoother than he'd expected, and the feeling was oddly soothing.

"Then again," Danvers added cryptically, "it may be that what he needs will find him."

He didn't bother trying to work out what the hell that meant. Shaking his head to clear it, he turned to face her again, though his hand stayed where it was. Touching the dragon was weirdly comforting. "I came to ask you a question, actually," he told her.

The statement got him a flicker of a smile. "Ask."

"The Assembly meets again tonight, to determine what to do about your situation. I have nothing new to tell them. Will you speak on your Laman's behalf?"

Danvers' expression opened into a genuine smile. "You _are_ good," she quipped. "He was definitely right about you."

"Excuse me?" Steve eyed her warily. "What does that mean? And who are you talking about?"

"It means that had you been born on our side of the border," she told him, "you'd have been snapped up by our company the moment you showed that level of tactical and political acumen."

Steve rolled his eyes at her. "You should see Peggy," he shot back, "she's much better at the politics than I am."

"Ah, but she does not share your instinct for tactics," Danvers grinned at him. "Accept the compliment, Captain Handsome."

"It's Rogers."

"Not anymore. And of course I'll speak to your Assembly. Someone needs to, and our Laman cannot." 

Steve gave her a nod. "I'll come by half an hour before the Discussion. Be ready."

"Oh, don't worry. I will."

Leaving the room was oddly difficult. Steve felt like someone had attached weights to his boots, the way he feet dragged. He had things to do, though. He needed to make his own preparations for the Discussion. Stubbornly putting one foot in front of the other eventually had him out of the recovery room, and then down the hallway. After that the pull seemed to disappear.

Steve made a note to interrogate Danvers about that later. Some instinct told him it was important. He didn't know how or why, though.

Much later that night, Steve stumbled into his rooms and let himself fall face first onto his bed, without bothering to take off more than the outer layer of his armour, and fell deeply asleep.

When he woke, Bucky was shouting something at him about idiots and political suicide and Steve had no idea what that was all about. That was the moment Danvers strolled in, looking very smug, and informed them that the Laman was much improved.

Bucky's lecture resumed, and Steve still had no idea what his best friend was so worked up about.

"You bonded with him, you dumbass!" Bucky shouted at him when he said as much, and everything fell into place so suddenly Steve thought there ought to have been an audible click.

Well, hell.


	9. [Pepper]

Four agonizing days after the War Council, following three separate political plays intended to remove her from power and all of which had been cleverly foiled by her spymaster before they could gain any ground, Rhodes approached her after the evening audiences.

"Maharani," he said, the words just clear enough to reach the back of the hall, "will you allow me the honor of escorting you to supper, in the absence of your husband and my Bonded?"

Pepper couldn't hold back a small relieved smile. "Of course, General. I could hardly refuse such an offer, coming from a good friend."

Rhodes laughed and offered her his arm. "There are those who would happily start rumours," he replied, still pitching his voice to carry just enough that everyone could hear him, but not being obvious about it, "were I not happily mated and you happily married."

"True," she acknowledged the point, and used her hand on his arm to turn them toward the door. "But come, I am hungry, and no doubt you are, as well."

Rhodes went easily, and they made their grand exit, appearances satisfied. Once they were in the corridors outside the grand receiving hall, her General added in a lower voice, "Once we have eaten, Maharani, I have news you must hear."

Something important enough that it needed to be discussed privately, but not urgent enough to merit emergency measures, then. Pepper nodded to herself. "I am sure we can carve a few minutes out of our schedules," she said with a nod.

Supper was a blur of small talk she didn't remember and food she ate without tasting. Before she realised it, her plate was empty, and Rhodes was offering her a hand up out of her chair. Taking it with a nod, she stepped away from the table as the servers appeared smoothly behind them to clear away their plates.

She took her General's arm again, and let him lead her toward his office, all courtly manners and brisk efficiency, somehow blended effortlessly in that unique way he had. Only once the door had been shut behind them, and Rhodes' most trusted lieutenant, Jones, posted outside them did he offer her a seat and settle himself behind his desk.

Leaning forward on his elbows and speaking in a low voice, he caught her eyes. "I've finally heard from Carol," Rhodes said, and all the hope she'd been doing her best to squash rose back up through her.

"Please say what I think you're going to say," she blurted, the words almost voiceless air rather than speech.

"She's found him, and some allies into the bargain. The others are still searching. Carol didn't have the means to send them a messenger yet. The only reason I heard was the tight connection we have."

The sheer relief Pepper felt at that almost had her sliding out of her chair. "Thank all the gods for that."

"There's more," Rhodes added. "He's hurt. Badly."

"How badly? Can he fly?" The tension was coming right back. "What happened?"

"Badly enough," Rhodes looked like he wanted to throw everything else aside and go get Tony. "Carol isn't a healer, so I didn't get details. He can't fly, and is barely aware of his surroundings. There's some kind of metal suit he managed to build and enchant that follows him around and defends him."

The sentences fell into her awareness like stones into an already turbulent pool, mixing and mingling with her own worries about the situation at home, even as she desperately wanted to hurry to Tony's side, herself. Rhodes was giving her a knowing look.

"The most amazing thing, though," Rhodes went on after a pause that felt like it lasted a year, "is that he seems to have found his bondmate out there somehow."

Pepper felt her expression go blank. "He what?" she hissed.

"Carol was being very smug about it. Apparently Tony managed to bag himself one of the premier captains of the griffons' commandos units. You may know the name. The leader of the Howling Commandos. A Steve Rogers."

Pepper's hands tightened around the arms of her chair. "Are you serious?"

Rhodes laughed. "Carol's dubbed him Captain Handsome, though I suspect that's probably Tony's fault. I'd say you both hit the jackpot here, politically and personally. Carol says he's every inch the man the rumours claim, and then some."

Swallowing back the new apprehensions that were building at the back of her mind about this newest development, Pepper shook her head to clear it. They really didn't need a relationship drama or a political conflict over Tony's Bonded as they were staring down a war with the Hydra. "I hope you're right. This has the potential to turn into a disaster even if he is as good as she thinks."

"You've grown cynical these last few days." Rhodes leaned over his desk and reached out to put a broad warm hand over hers, where it was still clenched around the arm of her chair.

Pepper gave her General a long level look, knowing that her meaning would be clear even as she took the comfort so openly offered. "After all the traps and pitfalls that I've had to avoid, that's a foregone conclusion."

"Best we get them home as soon as we can, then."

"For all our sakes," Pepper agreed.


	10. [Steve]

It didn't matter what he said to Bucky about what had happened and how _he hadn't meant for this to happen_. It took Bucky a while to calm down enough to stop yelling.

When he did, Danvers took the opportunity to speak up. "Don't be too hard on your captain," she said, a hint of laughter in her voice, "when bondmates meet, this sort of reaction is inevitable. James and I, well. We only lasted a few hours after we first met. Then it was like a lodestone turning to point north."

Bucky growled something under his breath. "That's nice and all, but Steve can't just up and follow you home," he retorted. "He's under oath. Hell, more than one."

"We'll work it out, Buck," Steve said. "Right now, we have bigger problems."

Peggy sniffed at him from her position in the door. "That's a bit of an understatement, Rogers," she quipped. "First you'll have to convince the Assembly to let us accompany them back to their capital."

Bucky turned to her and gave her an incredulous look. "Peg, what are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Stop worrying about your best friend's love life and think politically for a bare second, Barnes. We have royalty among us. Injured royalty who happens to be facing down a possible war, at that. He needs to get home as soon as he physically can. After what happened on his way here, we can't in good conscience send him and Carol alone. And you know as well as I do that our good captain will insist we go with him."

Danvers grinned. "I knew I liked you," she said. "Yes, that's about how it breaks down. Do you think you can get permission for that?"

"If you make the request or your Laman does, it might as well be ironclad," Peggy said. "And I happen to agree with Rogers. You need an escort."

"The Assembly doesn't meet again until tomorrow, and I think they're getting tired of the emergency meetings. That should work in our favor, as well. Would you see to getting the team organised for our trip, Ms. Carter?" Steve added.

He felt a weird tug at his attention, a beat later. Trying to pinpoint what it had been, he looked around the room. That had felt like a pair of eyes on him, but no one else had come in.

Peggy gave him a considering look as she answered, and he knew she'd noticed his distraction. "I will. We should be able to just resupply on food stocks and repack the travel gear we were using on our last patrol."

Peggy turned to Bucky and caught his eye. "Come on, Sergeant," she told him. "You're with me."

Once they'd left, Steve found himself alone in the room with Danvers. He gave her a long level look, debating how to ask the questions he wanted to, and then dove in at the deep end with a mental shrug. "So, Ms. Danvers, I assume you came here initially to give me the rundown on how bonds and mated pairs work."

"Firstly," she replied, her tone brisk, "call me Carol. Only my subordinates use any form of my last name. Secondly, your assumption isn't incorrect. But there's more to it than that. If you do choose to accept the bonding -- and, yes, it can be refused or broken under some circumstances -- you will need to know about the politics back home, too."

"Refused? Broken?" That was something Steve hadn't known was possible, and Bucky hadn't either, if his initial reaction to this bonding had been any indication.

"Not every pair that is compatible necessarily wants a bond. Though it generally takes many decades for a dragon to find even one human compatible enough that a bond is possible, the humans living with us have differing opinions on bonding and mated pairs. Our Laman's sire and his Maharani are one example. It so happened that Maharani Maria married for political reasons. Only afterward did they discover that there was the potential for a bond." Carol shrugged. "Maharani Maria preferred marriage over bonding.

"As for the breaking of bonds... the mere possibility is not a fact we broadcast, and it is a very rare occurrence. The last case recorded was that of a lower ranked officer in the human division of our military who was caught selling secrets to our enemies."

Steve considered that for a few seconds. "And what exactly does this bond do?"

"It's a connection. The precise manner in which it manifests is different for each pair. Some feel it as simple physical attraction. For others it goes far beyond that. Once the bond has been accepted and had a chance to settle, it grants the ability to communicate over great distances, increased healing, and, for the human bondmate, longevity on par with a dragon's."

"So you can speak to your bondmate from here?" That had huge tactical implications and benefits.

"I can. I cannot speak to anyone else. Bonded pairs in our military are often assigned to different companies or to communications, for exactly that reason."

"So what you're saying is that somehow I ended up bonded to your Laman and it's settled enough that he's healing faster." Steve wasn't sure what to think about that, but he sure as hell couldn't say a word about it to the Assembly until after they'd gotten the Laman home. And maybe not for a while after that, if the war that the dragons were concerned about really did break out.

"Looks that way. With a little luck, he might even be able to fly out of here on his own two wings, if he keeps improving like he did overnight." Carol caught his eyes and held them for a long while. "Even if you did choose to break this bond -- and no one would blame you for that, given that you clearly had no idea what you were doing or agreeing to -- we would owe you a boon or three, just for helping us get him back."

That was an aspect of this mess that he hadn't considered. "It was the right thing to do," he said simply.

Carol huffed at him. "That's an attitude that is not as prevalent among our people as it should be."

"Right." Steve made a face. "You said something about politics?"

They talked late into the morning about the peculiarities of the dragons, their ways of thinking, and how the kingdom was organised.

It took another day and a half for them to convince the Assembly to let them go -- once they'd finally agreed that Steve and his Commandos should go, they'd settled in to argue about who should take on his patrols in his absence -- then give Sam Wilson, commander of the Red Wing and ally to the Fourth Eagles, the needed briefing on his new responsibilities, pack up their gear, and get underway.


	11. [Pepper]

It felt like an age had gone by as she'd waited for further news of Tony. Rhodes had insisted that they wait to announce that he had been found and rescued until Tony had recovered enough to travel home.

Pepper could see the logic in the move. Keeping the news to themselves until then would also prevent anyone who was scheming to drive her out or gain influence through Tony's absence from making any sudden power plays.

It was at times like this that she desperately wished she and Tony had been compatible enough to bond, rather than only marrying. She loved him fiercely, and sometimes missing him was more like an ache that lodged deep in her chest and attempted to choke her.

Carol's reports had been consistently optimistic, and that was the only thing keeping Pepper going. The knowledge that Tony was recovering, and fast, did a lot to endear Tony's captain to her, despite all her concerns over the politics of such a match. Her Council would be up in arms over the news that Tony's Bonded might have other allegiances, and that would cause her no end of headaches.

After hearing about the man from Rhodes, who had heard it firsthand from Carol, Pepper thought she could handle the personal aspect of adding someone like him to her relationship with Tony. It would take her some adjustment, but she was fairly certain that the Captain would be reasonable about those sorts of things. It was far more palatable to her than any dalliance Tony might have had without the benefit of a bond, whether with a dragon or a full human.

Whether she was right about her reactions, though, remained to be seen.

She would only be able to pin that down with any certainty once Tony was home and she had a chance to meet this Captain Rogers in person.

Biting back a sigh, Pepper checked her appearance one last time and opened the door of her quarters. She had called the Council together now that Tony, Carol, and their escort had gotten through the highest part of the mountain pass and would be spending the night there, resting. They would be arriving at the capital sometime tomorrow, which meant announcing their arrival and notifying the watch.

The last thing they needed was to have Tony shot out of the sky by their own forces now that they almost had him back, or for one of the members of his escort injured by an over-watchful watchman. Pepper was tempted to have the whole escort knighted on the spot, the moment they arrived, just for the sheer fierce joy of having her husband home. 

The fact that it would give her Councilors a bellyache for months, if she did it, was an added bonus.

She and Tony had inherited the majority of the Councilors from his parents. They were old guard, for all that only Obadiah was old enough to qualify as middle-aged. Their mentalities and attitudes were far more in line with what Howard and Maria had envisioned for the kingdom. As a direct consequence, she and Tony had found themselves at loggerheads with them repeatedly, since their assumption of their respective roles as Maharani and Laman. All of them had been very resistant toward the policies she and Tony had been trying to implement over the past decade.

Stepping into the Council Chamber once again, Pepper surveyed the room. Rhodes and Parker were already present, as was Hammer. "Councilor," she greeted him, making sure her voice stayed neutral, "General Rhodes."

"I don't appreciate being called away from my evening meal for 'urgent' meetings that no one knows the reason for," Hammer complained in reply.

Rhodes growled something under his breath about Hammer's mother and a goat. Pepper had to work to keep her expression calm. She gave Hammer the coldest glare she could, holding his eyes and doing her best to light him on fire with her gaze alone. "You are treading on thin ice, Councilor," she said, seeing her spymaster silently enter the room but not acknowledging her yet. "Watch your tongue."

Hammer rolled his eyes. "I don't--"

Natasha struck, quick as a snake and just as deadly. Before Hammer could finish the sentence, she had him pinned to the table with one of his fists held tightly to his back at the height of his shoulderblades. He was flailing with his free hand, trying to find the leverage to get out of her hold, and failing.

"Your manners leave something to be desired," Natasha told him, her voice a low hiss of sound that barely carried far enough for Pepper to hear her. "If you wish to keep your head, you'd be wise to guard your tongue."

Natasha held him down for another moment, then released him and stepped back, as serene as a moonlit pool, and took her seat. "Maharani."

"Spymaster." Pepper smiled. Somehow she suspected Natasha had already heard the news. "I trust your day was tolerable."

The comment got her a small quirk of a smile in return. "I have no news of any further disasters," Natasha replied as her remaining two Councilors and Thor filed in at last. "There are some reports of scattered acts of sabotage in the southern reaches of the kingdom, but nothing truly threatening as yet. Several townships have sent word that their crops were set ablaze, and are requesting assistance."

Pepper nodded. "Please have the seneschal coordinate any assistance that is sent out."

"Your wish, Maharani."

Turning to the rest of the room, Pepper addressed them all and ignored the way Hammer was pointedly still rubbing at his wrist and playing up his affront. "I asked you to join me for this meeting because General Rhodes has received important news."

Rhodes took the cue for what it was and stood, inclining his head. "Maharani. Councilors. I've gotten word from the search party led by my Bonded. She reports that they have found the Laman. He is weak and injured, but he lives, and will be returning home as soon as possible."

Dead silence reigned in the room for a moment.

Her Premier looked graver than she thought the announcement merited. "Do you have any information on what happened?"

"No, Councilor," Rhodes replied. "Unfortunately we know as much as we did before."

Obadiah leaned back in his seat. "I guess that will have to wait until we can speak to the Laman about it, then," he said, as though he were conceding some big point to Rhodes. "When do you expect him to return?"

"My Bonded estimates that they might arrive tomorrow afternoon or early the following day."

Killian looked startled for a beat before he managed to hide the expression. "So soon! His injuries must not be so severe then."

Hammer looked at Natasha, who held his eyes levelly, and thought better of commenting.

"I do not have any details on his injuries or their severity," Pepper told Killian, and it wasn't even a lie. Rhodes hadn't given her any. "But that is not important at the moment. General Rhodes, would you have someone alert the city guard and the watch of the Laman's upcoming arrival?"

"Yes, Maharani. Parker? See to it personally, please."

The young man saluted respectfully, then bowed and left the room, a hint of a spring in his step that Pepper hadn't seen since Tony had left on this ill-fated journey he now returned from. 

"If there is nothing else, Maharani," her Premier said in a smooth tone of voice she immediately distrusted, "I have some arrangements of my own to make for the Laman's return. This calls for a celebration."

"By all means," she agreed. "Thank you for coming, Councilors."

Pepper left the room with her head held high, feeling the eyes on her back. She could tell that all three of the men on her council were plotting and scheming but they'd done nothing overt yet. Which meant that she couldn't take action, and neither could her spymaster.


	12. [Steve]

The going was slow, and it had taken them two days just to get back to the foothills on their side of the mountains, but the Laman could fly with reasonable ease again now. Steve kind of thought Carol was reveling in that. The two of them spent a lot of time speaking in what sounded to Steve like squeaks and grunts, their saurian throats not properly suited to human words, and half the time Steve thought he should understand what was being said, for all that he had no idea. The enchanted suit of armour the Laman had created kept pace with them, hanging in the air between them.

The observation brought his thoughts right back to the topic he'd been worrying at for the last few days. Steve hadn't had a lot of time to spend with the Laman after they'd accidentally bonded, and now he and his Commandos were about to spend the next few days effectively alone with him and Carol. Steve wasn't sure if he was more intrigued or apprehensive. He didn't even know the Laman's name. Carol had never seen fit to mention it.

The last time the griffons had had any real contact with the dragons had been during the last Hydra war. In a move that Steve privately thought had been more than a little bit stupid, the griffons and their humans had chosen to implement an isolationist strategy in the wake of that conflict to let their population recover.

That had lots of consequences, in the present. It meant that, though the numbers of humans and griffons had more or less reached the levels they'd had previous to the last war, they were politically at a disadvantage. There was little or no information to be found in their Capital or even the street gossip about current politics in the dragons' Keep, and the last dragon king anyone knew of was Howard Stark -- who was very obviously no longer alive if this dragon was Laman now.

Worse still, Steve would have to make a decision on what to do about the bond, and he would have to do it before they reached the dragons' capital. He had learned enough from Carol's description of the complex politics and intrigues that went on that he knew better than to walk into that city without having made up his mind.

The longer he waited, the stronger their bond would become, too. That much was common knowledge among the griffons and their allies, even now, after some seventy years cut off from the world.

As it was, he felt weirdly drained all the time. Carol had told him that it was because the Laman needed to take the energy to heal, and once the Laman was feeling back to normal that fatigue would vanish. More, that he would probably feel better than he had before. 

Steve was concerned, though. He didn't want the link to form fully only to break it. That would only hurt them both more than necessary. On the other hand, he didn't want to break it before the Laman was healed. It left him with something of a quandary.

Then, too, even if he did decide in favor of keeping the bond, he would have to work out what the hell to do about his obligations to his own people and the Commandos.

"Captain," Peggy broke into his thoughts as she took position alongside him, "we should take advantage of the campsite ahead on the mountain road. The next will not come within our reach before midnight, if we continue at our current pace."

He acknowledged the suggestion with a nod. "Agreed, pass the order along. We stop at the next campsite."

"Who is on scout duty?"

Steve quickly thought back over their agreed roster. "Morita and Dugan."

He watched as Peggy peeled off neatly into a banked turn that took her high over the pair of dragons and to Bucky's side, where he kept position off Carol's right shoulder. It would take effort not to let himself sink back into thought about what he wanted to do. He had a turn on watch tonight as usual, and Carol had insisted that she share it with him, rather than Peggy.

For her part, Peggy had shrugged and acceded without comment. Steve wasn't sure what to think of the move. He knew a request for a private conversation when he heard one, and worried at the question of what Carol wanted to talk about until they were on the ground, but got no farther in working out the answer. 

While the rest of them, including the empty suit of armour, settled themselves in the campsite and put up their tents, Morita and Dugan scouted the area and returned. Dernier cooked, and while he did Bucky helped Steve care for the mounts. Dinner came and went without leaving much of an impression on Steve. The conversation washed over and around him, heeded but not remembered. If he'd been asked what had been said, Steve knew, he wouldn't have been able to quote even one sentence. Luckily, he and Carol had the first watch, tonight, which meant he could play off his inattention as concern over what she wanted to say to him.

As the daylight faded, he and Carol stood and left the ring of light around their cookfire. Steve surveyed the lot of them before he turned to follow the dragon. This motley crew had become his friends and practically family, and he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. The Laman, weirdly enough, seemed to enjoy it, too. Steve was getting the distinct impression that if it were possible, the Laman would simply keep the lot of them at his capital. 

Carol gave him a look that implied she knew what he was thinking, but she waited to open the discussion for another few minutes. Steve spent them keeping an eye on the road and the weather and forcing his attention not to wander.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?" He glanced at Carol before he turned back to scanning the horizon for movement that shouldn't be there.

"What are you thinking about so hard? You've been very quiet and serious all day."

Steve shook his head at her. "That's not what you wanted to talk about."

"Maybe not, but it's still important. Spill." Carol braced her fists on her hips and gave him a challenging stare.

"Not that important," Steve replied. "Still debating what to do about... everything."

Carol snorted. "That's important. To you personally, to the Laman, to his Maharani, and to the kingdom's Council."

He made a face at her. "I know. That's the problem."

"If you're considering breaking the bond and leaving for home out of some crazy idea that the Laman would prefer not to deal with the political aspect of his bonding," she told him bluntly, "don't. The politics would be ridiculous no matter who he ended up mated with. Sure, you, specifically, are a bit more complicated than most other people would be, but that doesn't mean you should say no. At least meet the Maharani, first."

"Carol," he said, throwing his head back so he could stare up at the first few stars dotting the sky and groaning, "if I haven't decided before we get him back to the capital, I might as well just leave again."

"Bullshit. That's surprisingly cowardly of you."

"Excuse me!?" Steve felt his jaw drop.

"Firstly, I'd thought you more stubborn than that. Secondly, if you think the Laman would just let you walk away like that, you're deluded," Carol hissed at him, and Steve could have sworn he smelled sulfur and smoke.

"I--" Steve was tempted to pull his helmet off just so he could run his hands through his hair in frustration, and suddenly the words were pouring out of him. "I don't know what you want me to do! I have obligations! Responsibilities! I can't just throw them all aside to run away with a dragon I've barely met and haven't even been able to talk to! And the politics on your side of the border will only make it more difficult for me to stay! You think you have all the answers? Do you? Tell me, then! Tell me how I should resolve this! Should I send my team and my mount home after this? With a 'sorry, I'm staying here', and let them brand me a traitor? Should I do it, knowing that your politicians will do their best to get rid of me? Should I do it, knowing that the Maharani you admire will probably see me as a threat to her own political power? Or a potential traitor to the whole kingdom?"

He ran out of breath, then, and stood there, trying to calm himself down, while Carol watched him quietly.

"Those are all points that are well made," she conceded when he had caught his breath again. "And, no, I don't have all the answers. You'll have to find them for yourself. Just promise me you'll do it with the Laman and the Maharani, rather than alone."


	13. [Steve]

Naturally, after his discussion with Carol -- which the whole camp had apparently overheard, much to his embarrassment -- Steve couldn't seem to stop thinking about what she'd said.

Then, too, the Laman seemed to be giving him long measuring looks, like he wanted to say something and couldn't.

About a half an hour after they'd taken to the air on the last leg of their journey, the suit of armour fell in next to him. "Captain?"

"Yes?" Steve eyed it warily. The fact that it could talk despite being empty was more than a little bit unnerving, and he didn't know what to think about that. If his suspicions were right, the Laman was using it to talk to him, but Steve wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that. His Commandos had taken to calling it Iron Man, and that seemed oddly fitting.

"What do you plan to do once we reach the capital?"

Steve bit back a sigh. "I don't know. That depends on what we find there. Carol's updates have not been very promising."

The statement got him a snort that seemed to echo inside Iron Man's helmet. "That's only to be expected when Laman Stark isn't around, and probably presumed dead." Iron Man paused for a beat. "But once the political tangles have been resolved and we can be sure the Council members are all in residence, will you stay?"

Steve filed away the name. "I don't know. After everything, I'm not about to just turn and leave, but I can't simply stay either. My team can't disappear from our capital like that, and neither can I."

"And what of the negotiations the Laman wanted to make?"

Steve turned in his saddle to give Iron Man a wry look, forgetting for a moment that there was no one inside the armour. "I have no authority of my own. That rests with the Assembly."

Iron Man sounded like he was rolling his eyes when he answered. "Carol told me about the way they all defer to you. You have more authority than you think."

"I highly doubt that."

"Suit yourself." Giving the impression that he would have shrugged, Iron Man peeled away and returned to his position between the two dragons.

Steve watched them for several long moments. The Laman -- Stark, he reminded himself -- was moving a lot more easily than he had the previous day. His flight patterns were less wavery and his wingbeats stronger, albeit still slow. Steve himself felt quite tired, apparently continuing to support the Laman through their bond, and his movements were a bit sluggish.

It wasn't enough to render him unfit for combat, not that he expected anything to come up in the last few hours of the journey, but he felt it and found it annoying. He was unused to this kind of physical tiredness. He hadn't felt it in years. Not since Erskine had successfully used his skills to transform a skinny asthmatic into a physically fit young man.

The thought brought its usual pang of sadness. Steve missed the kindly healer who'd somehow managed to work a miracle, and it never seemed to matter how much time had passed since then. Erskine had managed to cure all of his ailments, and probably saved Steve's life into the bargain, then been killed shortly afterward. He'd been found dead in his home, and the city guards had declared it was simple old age. Steve had heard from Wanda much later that the official reports were false. That something far more sinister had happened. That there was a possibility that Erskine had been assassinated by Hydra.

It had taken him a lot of time and persistence to learn that what the healers suspected was the use of refined Hydra venom. Known as Extremis, when treated in exactly the right way, the venom could be put into a form that was easily carried in glass, and did not kill immediately. The victim could go for days or sometimes weeks before succumbing. It left very few traces behind, though, making a conclusive determination of its use nearly impossible after the victim's death. Only when the victim yet lived was it possible to detect, for all that the signs were subtle.

Steve refocused on the present, shaking his head to clear it, as the towers and spires of the dragons' capital came into view on the horizon. They would be arriving in under half an hour, now, and he needed to pay attention.

Politics. Steve made a face then forced his expression neutral again. This was a big reason why he'd wanted his team on this assignment. No other strike team had as good a negotiator as Peggy, or as good a shot as Bucky, and he himself was not above using his own influence to smooth the way for his team, or his bluntness to cut through needless discussion of minutiae, if need be.

Gabe came up alongside him, a beat later. "What's the play, Cap?" He asked.

"For now, we follow Danvers' lead," he replied, making sure the dragon heard him. "We're guests, not recognized military."

"Aye," Gabe raised his fist in acknowledgment and fell back to his previous position next to Morita before moving on to distribute the information through a combination of shouted orders and hand signals. This was something the whole team was very accustomed to, and so it happened quite quickly.

As the city walls came into view, the Commandos reformed behind the pair of dragons, letting the duo lead the way. It ensured that no one would assume the Laman was being held captive, and protected them from any stray shots, should someone assume the worst anyway. Steve joined them after giving Carol one last wave.

Peggy caught his attention a minute later. "Captain," she called, "wings on the western horizon!"

A glance in the indicated direction confirmed the presence of several dragons. Steve couldn't quite make out how many from this distance, but it didn't matter. "Ignore them for now," he replied, suspicious of any such movements after Carol's political primer, "but keep an eye out!"

The pair of dragons didn't pay the group on the horizon much attention after an initial curious glance, though, so Steve did his best not to let the knowledge that they were there make the skin between his shoulder blades itch.

A few minutes later, the men on the city's walls came into view, and Steve tensed. Now was the most dangerous moment, really. If anyone wanted to make a move, it would be from the advantageous position of attacking from inside the city walls, while they were still outside.

When Carol and the Laman landed safely on the ramparts, though, Steve relaxed. The worst was over.

The utterly relieved expressions of the small group of people hurrying up to them brought home exactly how worried these people must have been over their Laman and Carol -- the thought made Steve realise he still didn't really know quite what position she had. He decided that didn't really matter too much right at the moment, because Carol took one look at them and shifted, running up to them and throwing her arms around a tall dark skinned man in uniform.


	14. [Steve]

The rest of the afternoon seemed to pass by in a blur, and the Laman was immediately the center of attention. It stayed that way, too. Everyone wanted to say something, or had a problem that needed solving, and for whatever reason it seemed to be up to him to deal with it. A slender redheaded woman in ceremonial robes -- who Steve assumed was the Maharani that Carol had mentioned -- had appeared at the Laman's side soon after their arrival and made no move to leave.

While the Laman fielded questions and made decisions, the others that had hurried up to greet them introduced themselves and the Commandos did likewise. It didn't take long for the rest of the team to give him their salutes and disappear, along with their mounts, leaving Steve to deal with the chaos surrounding their arrival. He and the team had been summarily greeted and discreetly, if politely, interrogated, and then given the same level of attention that a chair might get. They'd been helpful, and that was appreciated, but no one really seemed to care that they were still in the city once that had been acknowledged.

The Maharani had very pointedly and clearly made her opinions known when the decisions the Laman was called on to make involved her or the people she governed. Rather the opposite of what Steve would have expected, really, based on Carol's descriptions of the strong gender bias most dragons showed. The Laman was clearly very progressive, by dragon standards.

An older bearded gentleman with wide shoulders and a slight paunch had repeatedly tried to persuade her to leave and gotten carefully but firmly refused every time he'd brought up the idea. Carol had growled under her breath at the sight until the uniformed man, who'd been introduced as her Bonded, General Rhodes, put a hand on her forearm.

"That's the Premier Advisor," Carol told Steve in an undertone that was barely audible to him, "I don't trust him."

Rhodes' hand slid up to her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "The Laman does, and we cannot publicly contradict him," he replied just as quietly, making his words look like whispered affection when she stepped closer to him.

The level of care the two of them were taking to appear perfectly calm and in accord with their sovereigns was making Steve very uneasy. Having to be so cautious in public was something he found incredibly wearying. Even just the short periods of time he spent in front of the Assembly were bad enough.

Eventually the Premier left, pleading other duties, and Carol relaxed. "It would be nice if we could replace him," she muttered under her breath, still clearly on edge even now that the man had left. "Hell, most of the Council needs to go, if you ask me. Then we could speak more freely rather than hiding from the mere idea that someone might be listening."

The General huffed at her. "Careful," he said mildly, "if you're overheard we might get accused of treason."

Steve couldn't help but put in, "You might want to save your discussion for a more private location, then."

Carol gave him a level look. "If you think there's a more private place than this, you're sorely mistaken, friend. Here, on the walls, we can see anyone who's likely to overhear us. Inside the Keep, only the Laman's workshop is truly secure against spies."

As she finished the sentence, Rhodes stepped away and offered her his elbow. "Come on, enough of this talk. You've had a long flight in, Captain, and I suspect you are in need of something to eat."

Accepting the change of topic graciously, Steve shrugged. "If you insist."

Carol laughed outright. "He's spent years corralling the Laman into reasonable meal times. You have no hope of resisting, Captain."

By the time they'd eaten and gotten Steve settled in his assigned temporary quarters, dusk had fallen and he felt drained. The other Commandos were quartered nearby, and their mounts had been given a corner of the stables to sleep in, as he'd found out from Peggy. As Captain, he rated his own room, but the rest of his team were bunking in twos. The knowledge that they were all together was reassuring, and Steve found himself grateful for that. Stripping off his uniform, and tired enough not to care that he left it in a heap on the floor, Steve fell onto the bed and knew nothing more until morning.

Dressing carefully the following morning, Steve stifled a yawn. Groggily attributing his lethargy to the Laman's continued healing, he paid it little mind. It took him a couple of attempts to buckle his belt and weapons into place, and as he finally got everything properly settled a knock at his door got his attention. "Hey, Cap," Bucky called to him, "up and at 'em!"

A smile tugging at his lips, Steve opened his door and stepped out into the corridor. "Couple steps ahead of you, Buck. Let's go eat."

"Fine by me."

They managed to get through their meal, joined by Peggy and Dumdum, and make their way towards the center of the Keep before the day took a dramatic turn.

As they approached the large hall where the Laman and Maharani generally heard grievances and petitions, based on what he'd learned from Carol and the brief tour he and his team had been given the previous evening, the skin at the back of Steve's neck prickled. "Something's wrong," he said flatly. "Sergeant, get the mounts saddled and rouse the rest of the team. We might need them. I'm going to find out what the hell's happening."

"Right," Bucky responded, turning on his heel and sprinting away without bothering to salute.

When he stepped into the hall, all eyes turned to him, and Steve suddenly felt like he'd made a tactical error before he'd even acted.

"So that's him, then, is it?" The Laman's Premier adviser sneered, turning away from the Laman to give Steve a disdainful once-over, clearly weighing him and finding him wanting. "You bonded with someone who had no allegiance to you or yours. No matter how honorable a man like him might be, his first loyalty will always be to his homeland! We cannot place full trust in such a man! Nor in you, now that you have taken up with him!"

Oh, now this was bad. Steve bit back the growl he felt rising in his throat. "Big words from someone who knows nothing about me. When was the last time you saw a battlefield and had to make such a decision?" In his peripheral vision, Steve saw Carol bury her face in her hands and Rhodes pinch at the bridge of his nose.

The smile that crossed the Premier's face at that question made Steve uneasy. That had clearly not been the best reply.

After a short tense silence in which the Premier turned to him and tried to stare him down, Steve verbally prodded at him. "So you're going to verbally slander me but not reply to my questions?" 

"I don't give a damn about you," the Premier told him bluntly. "Your opinion and your very existence have no impact on our nation. It is our Laman's decision to choose you over his people that matters."

"As if he's done any such thing," Steve scoffed as the Laman growled loudly. Once more feeling like he could understand, for all that the sound was meaningless to him, Steve turned to him. "I may not know much about the Bond and the magics that make it possible," he continued, "but I do know that it is not governed by conscious decision, or anything less than mutual. And you may not give a damn about me, but I sure as hell am not going to stand by and let you threaten my friends."

Rhodes stepped up beside him. "Premier," he put in, "Captain Rogers may not be of our people, and acting out of sentiment rather than our Law, but he's entirely correct. I cannot and _will not_ simply do nothing if you threaten my sovereign."

The expression on the Premier's face went darker and more satisfied, at that, if anything, and Steve wanted to wince. Maybe Carol had been right, after all. "I see," he replied. "All of you are tainted by the Laman's actions, and will lead the nation right into disaster. I cannot allow that to happen unchallenged."

The Maharani tried to intercede. "We should adjourn to a less public location and sort this out like civilized people. Surely this is a simple misunderstanding."

Two unfamiliar men seemed to materialize out of the crowd to stand beside the Premier, flanking him. "The evidence is clear, Maharani," one of them said in a nasal voice that grated on Steve's nerves immediately. "This is no misunderstanding."

A deadly-looking redhead stepped out of the shadows behind the Maharani, and Steve wanted to groan. Had their arrival in the city sparked a rebellion? Or, worse, a civil war?

He needed to act. But what should he do?

The Commandos, now in uniform and armour burst into the room, then, taking up ranks behind him, and the Premier snarled. "The Captain and his precious Howling Commandos, come to split our kingdom down the middle. Some allies." 

That comment seemed to be the one to break the fragile stalemate that had kept the argument from erupting into violence. The air around the Premier seemed to shimmer and then a massive dragon stood there, dwarfing the Laman, who suddenly looked elegant and slender next this massive brute.

The Premier tackled the Laman bodily, and the two of them were inextricably entwined as they stumbled clumsily out onto the nearby landing pad and clawed their way into the sky.

In the same moment, the two men who'd been standing at the Premier's sides launched themselves at the Maharani, who screamed, startled and stumbled backwards away from them. The redhead who'd appeared to stand behind her immediately moved to pin one of the men down. 

"Oh, this ain't good," Bucky muttered, already in motion.

Steve hesitated for a moment, not sure whether to help the Laman or his wife.

Peggy took charge. "Captain, go after the Laman. Take Barnes and Dernier. They're the best shots we have. The rest of you, with me. We have to keep order in here!"

Rhodes' hand landed on his shoulder, and he shoved Steve toward the landing pad. "She's right, we need to get airborne! Carol! To me!"


	15. [Tony]

The verbal attack had taken him entirely by surprise, and Tony had to fight to keep calm as Obie did his best to bring everything down around him. Obie should have been happy that Tony had finally found his Bonded, even if the circumstances weren't great. Should have been trying to help him make sure that Steve was accepted by his people.

When Obie had turned on Steve, Tony hadn't been able to keep the growl contained. The best he'd been able to do was stop himself from resorting to using his magic.

Obie's physical attack, though, that had made him panic. He'd simply let it happen, stunned into inaction, until he'd realised that Obie was trying to kill him. They'd physically plowed right through the cluster of griffons waiting for their riders on the landing pad, sending them scattering like pigeons in a flurry of brown-shaded feathers.

Their presence there distracted Obie just enough that Tony managed to wrench himself free and get into the air.

By the time he'd managed to clear the ramparts, Obie was back on his tail and they were corps-a-corps again, their clawed forehands locking as they both struggled to maintain lift. 

A roar from below them signaled that Carol and Rhodey were about to join the fray, and Tony didn't doubt that the Commandos weren't far behind. He couldn't let Obie hurt them. That would destroy any hope of a treaty and leave him potentially down his staunchest ally and best commander, all in one fell swoop.

Obie drew breath to use his fire, and Tony instinctively flinched away from him. The expected fire flared a moment later, but it was blocked. Deflected away from Tony and off to one side.

It also cut off far faster than expected, and that was when Tony realised he'd unconsciously called up his armour. Quickly pressing his advantage, he used its repulsors to force Obie away, to get himself some room to maneuver.

"Now!" Tony heard Steve shout, his voice carrying over the thunder of wings and feathers.

Like Steve's voice had conjured her, Carol was there before Tony could make his next move, screeching her defiance and hatred. She clawed at Obie's belly with all her strength as Steve and two of his Commandos backed her up. The griffons dove at Obie's head doing their best to blind or otherwise distract him.

With a growl of mixed frustration, rage, and pain, Obie broke off his attack on Tony, and barreled after Steve instead.

That, as Steve and Rhodey had declared earlier, was something that could not stand. Throwing the full force of his magic behind it, Tony flung the armour at Obie, pulling up mere meters from his Premier and firing the repulsors at Obie's face. Despite everything, he couldn't shoot to kill. Instead, he aimed to injure and distract.

He scored a good hit, and Obie howled, his wings flailing at the air.

Carol took full advantage of the opening that left, diving after Obie as he fell and slashing at his wings. She stuck close to him, not letting him get out of her reach, and Rhodey encouraged her to be as bloodthirsty as she wanted.

Barnes carefully took aim with his bow, then, tracking Obie as he fell, but not firing. Waiting to see what their opponent did, Tony suspected.

He followed Obie and Carol down towards the forested landscape below, and watched to be sure that the fight truly was over, as it seemed to be. He didn't doubt Rhodey or Carol. He knew just how good both his old friends were at what they did, but he also knew just how ruthless and crafty Obie could be.

Their impact with the trees made Obie scream in pain again, his already injured wings catching on the trees badly. Tony tried not to cringe imagining how that must have hurt. In response, Obie tried to flame Carol, sensing that he was outgunned, and searching for a way to wriggle free.

Carol, who'd ended up on top, had avoided taking more than a few whip thin branches to the face, and she'd shielded Rhodey entirely. She was also prepared for Obie's desperate bid for freedom; rather than try to use her scales to deflect the fire, she simply pinned Obie's head to the ground and more or less sat on him.

Now bleeding profusely from his various wounds, Obie made for an almost pitiful sight as Rhodey drew his weapons and slid down from his perch on Carol's shoulders. They were one of the few bonded pairs who preferred that mode of flying, and Tony couldn't help but be glad of it right now. He was still reeling from the idea that his oldest ally had apparently chosen to try to seize power.

He landed neatly, albeit gingerly, off to one side of the pair of dragons, and called his armour to his side, using it to speak so that their human allies could understand. " _Why, Obie? Why did you do it?_ "

Obie didn't reply.

Barnes and Dernier slowed to a careful hover above the treetops, their weapons still at the ready, apparently still plenty cautious.

Steve followed Rhodey and Carol down to alight on the ground. "Why does anyone covet power?" He replied, rhetorically, eyeing Obie suspiciously.

Obie stared up at him, resentment in his eyes. Not bothering to shift back for the benefit of Tony's human allies, he replied, "<< You were always too sentimental. Never took a firm enough stance on anything. I built this kingdom up after your father's neglect; I ran it in your place when you preferred to ignore what was going on. Why shouldn't I rule in name as well as fact? It's mine by right of the work I put into it. Decades on decades, I held you up, kept your kingdom from splintering. And here we are, on the brink of war, and I am trying to keep the kingdom strong, but the rest of you prefer to play political games with nations that have spurned us for decades. The griffons have refused our trade since the last War. We have no reason to trust them. >>"

Carol sniffed. "<< That's no reason to resort to violence. Against your own adopted son, of all people. >>"

"<< The benefit of the many takes precedence over the few, >>" Obie spat back at her, "<< no matter the sacrifice. >>"

"<< Cut off the snake's head that it will not bite, >>" Carol replied, mockingly, as Tony tried to process what he'd just heard. "<< Very pragmatic of you. You didn't wait long after Tony was presumed dead to try to force the Maharani out of her position. Everyone knows Killian and Hammer are your toadies. >>"

" _Enough, Carol,_ " Tony tried to rein her in.

The damage was done, though. Obie smiled nastily. "<< Who do you think arranged that hit on your little diplomatic convoy in the first place? >>" he asked, leaving the implications hanging in the air. "<< If those idiots had done the job right, this never would have had to happen. We would have risen from the ashes the last War strew at our feet, and the enemies to our south would be such no longer. An alliance with them would have solved just about every political problem the kingdom has, in one strike. >>"

Tony staggered on his feet.

"<< Hail Hydra, >>" Obie gritted out.

This time the scream that resounded through the trees was pure rage. Carol, pushed beyond all her limits by that revelation, grabbed Obie bodily and hauled him into the air, her wings straining under the force of her own emotion and Obie's weight.

Tony could only watch, feeling weirdly detached, as Steve and Rhodey ran up to him and caught him by his arms. That he had arms again -- that he'd finally managed to shift back to his human form -- went unnoticed, as they shored him up. They kept him on his feet as Carol, almost incandescent in her anger, slashed at Obie's wings again, and then the base of his neck, in that one specific spot where the scales were weakest.

Tony didn't even realise that there were tears carving tracks through the dirt and unshaven scruff on his face until Steve pulled him into a hug and Rhodey bracketed him from behind.

His Bonded and his General supported and protected him as best they could while Carol executed his Premier, his last remaining family, as a traitor.


	16. [Pepper]

When she managed to force her eyes open again, she had no idea how much time had passed. "Where--"

A healer leaned over her the moment she spoke. "Please do not move, Maharani," he said, and she recognized Don Blake. "Allow me to grant you some more rest while we bind your wounds."

There was a strange pull in her arm, and now that she was aware of it, she looked down at it. It was heavily bandaged, and she suspected that beneath the bandages she would find a neat line of stitches.

Feeling weak, she nodded. "Some water?"

Politely ignoring the hoarseness in Pepper's voice, Don agreed. "Of course. "

What felt like instants later, the darkness was pulling her under again, and Pepper hoped like hell someone was keeping Tony calm. He'd never coped well with what he considered attacks on his loved ones, and this betrayal would cut him deeply.

When she woke again, what felt like moments later, it was clear hours had passed. A different healer was keeping watch, and looking worried. She belatedly recognized Maya Hansen, and tried not to flinch. The two of them never had quite gotten along. Maya had been one of Tony's many lovers over the years, another dragon, and one with a talent for both healing and magery.

To her credit, Maya had never tried to rekindle the relationship, but the knowledge that it was a possibility had always made Pepper uncomfortable. Dragons were not always known for being fully faithful, especially when their spouses were full-human. And that was not a thought Pepper was _ever_ going to voice around Tony, in part because she didn't want to hurt him by implying he might do such a thing, and in part because if it was true she simply didn't want to know.

"Maharani?" Maya asked, her voice low.

A bid not to wake her, had she still been sleeping, Pepper suspected. "I'm awake," she answered, hearing the hoarseness in her own voice.

"Good. You had us all worried. It's been more than a day, and we believe that Killian might have poisoned his knives." Maya said, stepping over to her bedside and offering her something to drink.

The memories flashed through her mind. When the open disagreement had exploded into violence, it had caught Pepper off guard. Obadiah had dragged Tony out onto the landing pad, her focus on her husband distracting her at the crucial moment.

Before she could react properly, Hammer and Killian had taken the opening, drawn blades, and launched themselves at her.

Without needing the benefit of an order to do so, the remaining Howling Commandos in the room had dispersed to help keep the chaos from becoming a riot, while their leader in the Captain's absence, Peggy, had leapt right for Pepper and her assailants.

Natasha, who had appeared at her side a moment before the remaining two of her Councilors had attacked her openly, didn't hesitate to take action, either, shoving Pepper back and tackling Hammer to the floor violently.

Wearing her ceremonial robes had been required for the day's Grievance Hearings, but in a fight they were worse than useless. Pepper had felt her ornamented shoes catch on her robes and fallen, sprawling on her back, the impact with the floor stunning her for the space it took to draw a full breath.

"Maharani!" Peggy's voice had rung out.

That voice had been enough to break through the daze. Before Pepper could stumble to her feet again, though, Killian had been leaning over her, and slashing at her robes in a clear attempt to reach skin.

She'd screamed, fear rushing through her and lending her strength, but Killian had still managed to overpower her long enough to leave a pair of long cuts on her arm and belly, his greater strength and bodyweight too much for Pepper to hold back.

Peggy had slammed bodily into him then, and they'd rolled a few metres, fighting for the upper hand. Peggy's lieutenant -- Pepper thought his name might have been Duncan -- went to his knees beside her, carefully checking on her injuries.

She remembered trying to say something, but the pain of her wounds had overwhelmed her and the world had gone dark.

Shaking her head to clear it, Pepper felt a deep chill run down her spine as she accepted the draught Maya was offering her. Using poison on his knives would be in character for a slimy bastard like Killian. "What did he--?"

Maya waited quietly for her coughing fit to subside, before answering. "Your Spymaster attempted to make him tell us, but he committed suicide first," she answered quietly. "Your Premier is also dead. General-bond Danvers executed him for treason. Before he died, he admitted to taking allegiance with the Hydra."

Pepper felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. "The Laman?"

Maya huffed, sounding irritated, but a pale smile flickered over her features. "He is … upset, but otherwise no more injured than he was when he was returned to us, in no small part thanks to the Commandos who accompanied him home." She paused for a beat, hesitating, before she continued. "Captain Rogers and your Spymaster both are of the opinion that Killian poisoned you with Extremis."

"And your opinion?" Pepper demanded, tension running through her.

"I fear they may be correct, Maharani. The signs are subtle, but many of them are there. The fever, the long sleep you suffered when Don gave you a simple sleeping potion, the nightmares you do not remember and from which you should have woken…" Maya looked grave. "But, worst of all, we do not have the means with which to make an antidote."

"Please tell me there is some good news," Pepper replied, trying to keep the fear and worry out of her voice.

"Well, the Laman and his new Bonded seem to be working their way towards a true understanding." Maya told her. "I do hope that particular pairing works out, if only because they will be good for one another. And for you."

"After the Captain's performance in the Great Hall," Pepper replied, "I'd hoped he might. But Obadiah was right about one thing. He will have to decide whether to stay and forsake his oaths to his own people, or return and give up the Bond."

Maya shrugged. "He must make that decision."


	17. [Tony]

Just thinking about what had happened since he'd gotten home was exhausting. He'd been home for less than a day when the chaos had erupted, and it had sent him reeling. Rhodey had been doing his best to keep him calm, but all it had done was remind Tony of, well, everything.

Surveying the area around the Keep from his solitary perch at the top of the highest tower, Tony bit back an aggravated sigh. He wanted to shift and wear his scales. He felt vulnerable and hated it.

Not even the open skies above him, which had always been a comfort before, were helping his state of mind now. He wanted to be in bed, wrapped around Pepper, wanted to be at her side as the healers worked. He couldn't help heal her; they weren't bonded like he and Steve were. But he wanted to _do something_ to help her. The problem was, that poison wasn't something his magic or his tech could do anything to counteract. Hell, at this point, if he wanted something productive to do, the best he could settle for would be going to find Steve and finally talking to the guy properly. 

None of those options would end well, though. Tony knew better.

And so here he was, watching dusk fade into darkness as the familiar stars came into view, and trying not to think.

Some time later, Carol's scaled head appeared, snakelike, as she peered over the side of the tower crenellations. "<< Tony? >>"

He eyed her suspiciously. "Yeah?"

"<< Someone here who wants to talk to you. >>"

"Who?" Tony's eyes narrowed at his old friend. "It better not be--"

Carol cut him off by reaching over the edge of the crenellations and unceremoniously dropped an awkward looking Steve from her claws. Steve made a startled sound and staggered when his feet hit the stone.

"<< It's not my Bonded. >>" Carol replied, looking smug. "<< It's yours. >>"

Righting himself and glaring at her, Steve muttered something under his breath.

Tony gave him a rueful look. "Don't let her pressure you," he offered. "Carol likes to play matchmaker."

Rolling her eyes, Carol left silently, only the slight creak of the air filling her wings giving her away. Steve shook his head. "We really should talk about a few things, though."

"Like what?" Tony asked warily.

"Well, for a start, I don't really know what to call you," his Bonded quipped.

"When we’re alone, call me Tony. In public, follow Pepper's lead, if you're not sure." Tony replied, reluctantly amused by the man's choice of opening gambit. "Next question?"

"Who's Pepper?"

Ah. Right. They hadn't had time to go over nicknames. "My wife, the Maharani." Steve didn't look too surprised on hearing that. Good. Tony nodded. "Anything else?"

"A lot, but the biggest question is what you intend to do next." Steve ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture that made it stand up messily. "You're facing a war with Hydra on your southern borders, your Council just committed treason en masse, your wife has been poisoned, and your realm is in chaos. And it looks a lot like my Commandos and I caused all of it."

Tony groaned. "I should have known you'd ask the hard questions. I don't have an answer yet. You're right. From the outside it does look like your fault, but it's not. And we'll need all the help we can get against the Hydra. We can't count on Thor and the Norsemen, for all that they're our allies. Thor is as yet only crown prince, and not king, so that decision rests with his father."

Pausing to draw a breath, Tony watched his new Bonded, but Steve said nothing. "The internal tensions have always been there, waiting to fracture," he added bitterly. "The dragons have never been a unified people, and never will be. But open treason is not a course of action that we resort to often. The punishments are severe, both for the traitor and anyone helping them." Tony shrugged. "Where such sentiment among humans is concerned, it's often ignored. We generally live long enough that such disagreements either fizzle out or die along with those who harbor the feeling."

A short silence fell.

"That answers a lot of questions except the one I asked," Steve said after the pause had drawn out a little. Tilting his head up to look at the stars, he sighed. "After what has happened, the Howlies and I can easily justify staying to help you get things back under control. With a bit of political savvy you might be able to persuade a few more wings to join us."

"And afterwards?"

Steve looked down at his hands, clenched where they rested on the stone of the tower, before meeting his eyes. "I don't know. I have oaths to my people. To my Commandos. To my Allies. I can't simply leave."

"But do you want to?"

"I don't know," Steve looked conflicted, and the words were full of some emotion Tony could not have named if he'd wanted to try. He continued after a beat. "I barely know you, for all that we're bonded, and I've met your wife for all of a few minutes. Your Premier was right, too. Your people will see me as an interloper. And mine will brand me as a traitor if I'm not extremely careful."

Not sure how to feel about that, Tony scrubbed at his face. "Forget all of that for a second. Do. You. Want. To. Try?"

"I-- gods help me, but I do." Steve hesitated. "There's something else you should know."

"What's that?" Tony couldn't imagine what other problems there could possibly be.

"First: there's a rumour that the Maharani was poisoned with Extremis. Is it true?"

Steve's tone suggested he was leading up to something, so Tony decided to humour him. "It is," he replied, "and the healers have said they can't make an antidote with the supplies they have available."

His voice very quiet, Steve offered. "There might be a way, but it absolutely cannot get out how we've done it."

Intrigued, Tony said nothing, and gestured that he should follow. "This I have to hear. We're going down to my workshop."


	18. [Steve]

His nerves built and built as he followed Tony through the Keep, descending more levels than Carol had hauled him up, until they reached a heavily reinforced locked door. Tony stepped up to the heavy door without hesitation and pushed it open as though it weighed nothing, gesturing that Steve should enter.

The large room beyond didn't seem to contain much, on first glance.

Wondering what the hell he was getting into, Steve shrugged and stepped over the threshold. As though tearing away a veil, that revealed all manner of clutter that hadn't been visible from the door somehow.

His surprise must have shown, because Tony grinned at him and spoke. "Glamour. Can't have people spying on my work. This room is also warded against the ears in the walls."

Steve huffed at him, relaxing slightly. "Any other surprises in here?"

"Sure," Tony replied, his grin turning smug, "plenty." After a beat, he sobered. "But they're not relevant. Talk to me. What do you have up your sleeve that's so secret?"

Pulling in a deep breath, Steve tried to get his thoughts into a coherent row. "Plenty," he shot back, "but that's not relevant. I have no way to confirm this, so don't get too excited."

Tony sniffed. "You're sure enough to bring it up."

"I can't go into details, because I don't know them," he replied. "There are two options I see here. The easier one is to send part of my squad home to get the ingredients your healers need for their antidote. After the Extremis poisonings we've had at home, our healers made it policy that those ingredients always have to be stocked. Especially in the capital. But that takes some time to set in motion and carries risks. I have no idea how severely the Maharani was poisoned, and, I'd wager, neither do you." Tony looked like he wanted to interrupt, so Steve went on. "The other option is, well, me. That is the information that can't get out."

Tony was eyeing him with an odd expression, now. "You? What the hell does that mean? How the hell are you the other option?"

This, Steve wanted to wince, this was the crux. "There's a long story behind it, but there's a chance you could purify what she needs from my blood."

"Excuse me?"

Tony looked angry, and that made no sense.

"Huh?"

"Did I just hear you suggest you should sacrifice yourself for Pepper? That's not going to fly. No. Just no." Tony's hands flew through the air in grand swooping gestures as he tried to make his point. Steve suddenly wanted to catch and hold them.

"You're right that sending your team for the stuff we need might take too long," Tony went on, working himself up even farther, "but that kind of sacrifice is not a viable solution. Pepper wouldn't thank you for it, either."

Daring to take the two steps he needed to, to put Tony in arm's reach, Steve offered a hand. The gesture seemed to be enough to distract Tony and stop his words cold. "Tony," Steve said quietly, "come here."

Looking like he'd been surprised into acquiescence, Tony took the offered hand, and let Steve pull him into a careful hug. "You need to get some rest, don't you," Steve guessed. "I still feel tired."

Tony said nothing, a shudder going down his spine, and Steve nodded. He'd clearly guessed correctly. "That's not what I meant to suggest at all," he added, when Tony tucked himself close, as though wanting to burrow into Steve's chest and curl up there. "There's a lot of healing science and magery behind it that I don't understand. Whatever he did when he created his cure-all, Erskine got rid of every last illness that ever plagued me. It would probably work on Extremis, too." 

A jolt went through Tony. "Erskine?"

"... yes?" Steve wasn't sure what that reaction meant.

"Steve, that's brilliant."

Tony pulled away from him and started digging through the messy pile of ... whatever it was on the nearest worktable. Steve suspected they were mechanical engine parts.

Baffled, Steve followed him over to the table. "What are you talking about?"

* * *

[Tony POV]

Steve was perfect. The best possible Bonded that Tony could have wanted. "Erskine was a genius. The best in his field," he said absently as he searched for the records he was fairly sure he remembered had stayed on this worktable for decades. "Dad worked with him briefly on that cure-all before he died."

"They both died," Steve replied, missing the point, and then, bizarrely, Tony thought he heard his Bonded whisper, _He was poisoned._

Dismissing it as his imagination, Tony rummaged a little more in the mess on his least used workbench until he found what he wanted, coming up with a dusty book of notes written in his father's hand. "Hah, there it is."

"There what is?"

Tony set the book down on his workbench and patted its cover. "The solution to this problem. You said no one here could find out that you had Erskine's serum in you, and that it worked. I don't want you sacrificing yourself for Pepper. But if I have dad's notes and a drop of blood, I should be able to make Pepper the antidote she needs and no one will know anything more about the matter."

"And the war? Won't this take you a while?" Steve still looked a bit dubious.

"That's Rhodey's affair to manage. I'm not a soldier. If you're worried, coordinate with him and Carol."

That comment got him a slightly irritated huff, but Steve conceded the point. "Fine, we'll try it your way. But I really don't much like the idea that you'll be here, undefended, while we go out to fight."

"I have my armour," Tony countered, "and I'm not planning on leaving my workshop until I can help Pepper."

Steve wordlessly held out his left hand, then. "Then take what you need, I guess, and promise me you'll stay safe."

Tony gave him a long look and said nothing, taking Steve's hand and pulling him over to the workbench.

"Tony," Steve tried again, allowing himself to be moved, "I'm serious."

"You know I can't make that promise," Tony said on a sigh, pulling a dagger out of one of his tool cases and cleaning the blade on his shirt when he found no suitable rags nearby.

"Then at least promise you'll be careful." Steve persisted. "I didn't keep you alive and help you heal your scaly behind just so you could get yourself hurt again now."

Tony got the impression that Steve found those words ironic, and wondered why. "Didn't I already say I would?" he grumbled, making a face at his Bonded.

He might have to take back his statement about Steve being perfect, at this rate. The man was surprisingly dense, for a tactical genius. Taking Steve's hand again, he used the cleaned dagger to prick the side of Steve's thumb and pressed the drop of blood that welled up to a scrap of parchment. "I'm not going to hide in my workshop if things get dangerous."

"I just--" Steve ran his clean hand through his hair and used the other to interlace their fingers, ignoring the tiny smear of blood the gesture left on Tony's skin and the sharp twitch of Tony's fingers. "The last two days have been difficult. I've seen you struggling. Felt it. Don't let the pain blind you."

Having Steve's hand in his was more comforting than he'd have expected, and helped a lot with the way Steve had just reminded him of everything he was pointedly trying his damnedest to ignore. Tony felt a shudder run up his spine as tears pricked at his eyes and swallowed. He forced the snarled tangle of rage and grief back down again as ruthlessly as he knew how, knowing that he would need all the focus he could muster if he wanted to replicate what his sire and Erskine had worked on. Somehow Erskine had found a way to make their cure-all work, even without Howard's help, and the knowledge of exactly how had died with the man.

When Tony said nothing, Steve went on, stepping in closer and freeing his hand so that he could shift it up to Tony's shoulder. They stood in silence for another minute or so and Steve offered what comfort he could, letting Tony lean on him. It wasn't long before Tony carefully took his hand back and pulled away. 

"Go find Rhodey," he said, shoving everything aside as best he could, "and see what he thinks you would do best at. Then send your team for those ingredients and see if they can bring back some of that help you think might come."

"Sounds like a plan." Steve nodded. "Keep an eye on your wife."

He intended to do far more than that for her. "You'd better come back in one piece."


	19. [Steve]

He'd ended up talking to his team and Rhodes at the same time. The group of them had been gathered in a small-ish private library, and already hashing out tactics.

"-- could make some precision strikes," Dugan was saying, "but we'd be worse than useless for any formal kind of offensive."

Turning to catch his eyes as Steve let the door fall shut behind him, Peggy huffed. "That's about right. Good timing, Captain."

"We were about to send Barnes to find you," Morita chimed in. "General Rhodes, here, has some decently smart ideas."

Rhodes smiled wryly. "I'm not the kind of general that sits back in a keep while someone else does the fighting. Can't afford to be. We simply don't have the numbers."

"Speaking of." Steve replied, "we need to send two Commandos back home. Top priority."

"What for?" Gabe wanted to know. "We're undermanned as it is."

Looking around the room, Steve let his expression go serious. "This goes no further. You've all heard the rumours that the Maharani was poisoned."

Several heads nodded. "You want to send us for a healer," Falsworth guessed, his crisp northern accent showing through.

"First and foremost for supplies, but a healer who knows how to use them wouldn't go amiss," Steve nodded. "Peg, remember Erskine? That's what we're up against."

Peggy's eyes widened, and she swore colorfully. "Gabe and Dernier, then. They're fastest."

Rhodes looked back and forth between them, mystified, but didn't ask useless questions. "Sending two of you home doesn't change the tactics you'd need by that much."

"Then we're agreed," Peggy answered, then turned to their team. "You boys know what to do, get moving. I'll brief the Captain. Gabe, Dernier, I'll meet you on the City walls in half an hour with the information you need."

That was all it took, and then he was alone in the room with Rhodes and Peggy. In a few efficient sentences, they caught him up. "After finding out that our Premier and a majority of the Council were Hydra sympathizers, we must assume that any and everything that is overheard in the Keep gets back to them," Peggy started. "Any further sensitive discussions will be held on the wing at the General's suggestion and kept as short as possible. The Howling Commandos will be tasked with finding and destroying any and all Hydra cells that we can."

Rhodes nodded. "We have reports of any number of small mixed groups of sympathizers and Hydra springing up in the foothills of the mountains, and in the south near Mahlibhu. They are not, strictly speaking, high priority targets, but we believe those smaller cells will give us the information that will lead us to the targets we need to hit."

"What information are we looking for?" Steve asked, even as he knew he wasn't likely to get an answer.

Peggy grinned at him, the expression holding a sharp edge. "We'll know it when we see it, I expect, Captain."

The next few hours passed in something of a blur. As promised, Peggy had sent off Gabe and Dernier within the half hour she'd quoted, and not an hour after that, Steve and the rest of the Commandos were flying southward to chase down the first of the known Hydra cells.

It would take Gabe and Dernier about a day and a half to complete their mission, if all went well. Steve had no idea how long Tony would need, or how long the Maharani would be able to withstand the effects of the poison.

It was clear she was a strong woman; she'd survived this long. But even the strongest person could get worn down. That, ultimately, was what Extremis was good at. What made it so subtle. It simply made its victims look and feel like they had been working too hard. Like they had overextended themselves. And when they got tired enough, that was when the poison became deadly.

Steve forced himself to shake off the thoughts as best he could.

He would need to focus to get through the next week without getting injured, and the continuing lethargy he felt due to Tony's healing would only make fighting more of a drain. It was already sapping at his will to stay alert even on the short trip south. The dragons' capital was a bare two hours' flight from their southern border. Beyond that, the Swamps Hydra controlled stretched all the way to the open sea.

"Captain?" Peggy drew her mount up alongside his.

"What's wrong?" Steve perked up, scanning the horizon automatically.

"Nothing yet," she replied, "but I have the nagging feeling that this approach is too easy. Even if they knew we were coming, the forces in the area should have challenged us by now."

That... was a good point. Steve bit back his groan. "You think it's a trap?"

"Hard to be sure. We'll have to move cautiously."

Steve considered that for a bare moment. "Inform the others, we'll proceed as Rhodes suggested until otherwise necessary. Better not give away that we know they're planning something until they actually do it."

Peggy saluted, acknowledging the order, and peeled off to do just that, leaving Steve to his thoughts again.

With the prospect of a fight looming, Steve found himself suddenly more focused. The quiet of the air around them, which hadn't registered until Peggy had pointed it out, felt ominous now. She was quite right. There was no one to be seen on the horizon in any direction, despite Rhodes' assertion that there should be regular patrols in the region.


	20. [Steve]

It didn't take long for the strange silence of the air to get Steve's hackles up, now that he was paying attention.

He could see the town of Mahlibhu in the distance, now, its silhouette dominated by red tiled roofs and the small fortress roughly at its center. The fortress where the regional patrols should have been based. Unease prickled down his spine as they approached the town, despite the tranquility of the day. Peggy was right.

Steve tried to force his mind clear.

Tony and General Rhodes needed to know that something was off, and that it might have gotten its claws into the local military.

Feeling the prickle of his unease seem to travel further up his spine until it was lodged at the base of his skull like a tension headache, Steve made a decision. Whistling shrilly, he called for a pause-and-regroup maneuver. In moments, all of the Commandos were clustered around him in formation, their own unease making their movements snappier and crisper. "Peggy, Bucky, you're heading back to the capital as messengers. Let the Laman and General Rhodes know there might be trouble in their own ranks. The rest of us will continue on with the mission as assigned until you rejoin us."

Sending two of his company off to bring news news back to the capital they had just left was not an appealing plan, given that they were a small team to begin with and already down by two more of their members, but sending only one Commando meant whoever he sent would be open to attack or ambush and very vulnerable.

Peggy scowled at him. "That leaves you with a four man team to work with," she pointed out.

"We'll stop off at the Mahlibhu fortress as planned to get whatever information they have and then rendez-vous with you south of the town at nightfall," Steve replied.

"I don't like this plan, Steve," Bucky told him bluntly. "We should just all go back."

Dumdum was the one to point out the obvious. "That won't solve the problem, Barnes," he said, "and they'll know we're on to them. We've been seen. No way around that. We weren't trying to hide our approach, and even if we had been there's little to no cover around here. They'll be more suspicious if we don't do what Rhodes suggested and talk to the officer in charge out here."

"The trap's already been sprung," Morita agreed. "Now we've got to find a way out. I'm with Rogers. We'll need help to get out of this alive. We don't have the numbers or magic to put up a real fight, if it comes to that."

Peggy closed her eyes briefly. "Let's hope it doesn't, and we're all wrong about the whole thing."

"I'm not taking that bet, Carter," Falsworth put in, breaking his long silence. "The whole situation stinks to the skies. Even if nothing is rotten in the state of Mahlibhu, why haven't we been met by a welcoming committee? We're right on the border with the Swamps. If a war was brewing, I'd surely not leave the border unwatched. Even the most incompetent commander knows that much, and I rather doubt General Rhodes tolerates incompetence. This close to the town, their security should be tighter."

Steve nodded. He hadn't had the words to put to his unease, but Monty had just put it all neatly together. "Exactly," he agreed. "Buck, Peggy, I'm counting on you both. Get help, and bring Gabe and Dernier back with you, if they're in town."

Her lips pressed tightly together, Peggy gave in. "If you get yourself killed, Rogers," she told him, "I will find a way to resurrect you so I can kill you again."

Bucky huffed, reluctantly amused despite the situation. "That goes for the rest of you jokers, too," he added. "All of you better come home alive."

He could see their reluctance, but Bucky and Peggy saluted and peeled away from the rest of them to head back the way they'd come at top speed, while the rest of them continued on their way.

The long afternoon shadow cast by the fortress seemed to grow more and more unnerving as they approached, and the walls of dark stone made it look somehow oppressive rather than reassuringly strong. Steve fought down a shudder and hoped like hell that he hadn't made the wrong decision in following the plan.

In a clear bid to make the lack of patrols and vigilant men less obvious, they were met on the landing area by the commandant of the regional forces. A middle-aged full-human named Pierce. He ranked nearly as highly as Rhodes, and gave off an air of quiet competence. Steve instantly disliked the man. Pierce's right hand man stood at his side, identified by the rank insignia on his uniform; he was an older dragon whose name Steve didn't know. With the dark skin of someone born in the far off lands even beyond the farthest reaches of the Swamps and the patch covering his left eye, he looked rather more dangerous than his commanding officer.

Dismounting and peeling off his flight gloves, Steve shook off his tension and suspicion as best he could. "Commandant Pierce."

The commandant smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Captain Rogers," he returned, offering a hand for Steve to clasp in greeting. "It's an honor. I've heard much of your exploits."

Smiling politely back at the man, Steve took the offered hand, keeping the touch as brief as he could without being rude. "I must admit that news of your own deeds have not traveled as far, though I suspect they match mine." Pierce's man made a quiet sound of derision under his breath. Steve wasn't sure why, though, so he ignored it and went on. "General Rhodes told us we could get more information on the political and military situation in the area from you before we move on."

"By all means," Pierce agreed genially. "Our resources are stretched thinner than we'd like, and we welcome any assistance the General sends us."


	21. [Tony]

When Rhodey opened the workshop door, Tony was deep in his plans and half done with the design Steve had planted in his mind ... whenever it had been. It felt like most of a day, but time flowed differently for him when he was working. "Yeah, Sugar Britches?"

He didn't get the usual amused snort from Rhodey. "Tony, we've got more trouble. Put that down for fifteen minutes. We need to talk this through."

Rhodey sounded deadly serious and almost frightened. Turning away from his workbench, Tony faced his friend, and only then noticed that two of Steve's Commandos -- the pair of them were Steve's best friends, no less, meaning this was probably Important -- stood behind his General looking like they wanted desperately to be back in the air and away from the Keep.

Tony hesitated for a brief second. Fifteen minutes might mean life or death to Pepper, but he couldn't ignore this. As he finished the thought, something seemed to tickle at the back of his mind, and the sensation threw everything that was hidden in Rhodey's words into sharp relief. "Alright," he conceded, "talk to me. Tell me what new disaster just fell in my lap."

Rhodey winced. Bucky was the one to answer. "Steve sent us back here to keep us alive and to get him help. He took the others on his mission as planned, knowing he was walking into a trap, and he's counting on us to get him back out. Something's really badly wrong in Mahlibhu. We don't know what. We were ordered back here before we reached the city."

Tony felt a chill run down his spine. Rhodey caught his eyes. "The regular patrols apparently aren't flying," his General added.

Unease made Tony pace. "Who's in command down there, again? Still Pierce?"

Rhodey nodded. "Still Pierce. He's one of our best officers, Tony. The man is a decorated veteran with more experience than anyone else serving right now."

"I never liked him, Rhodey. I know you don't like him either."

"I don't have to like a man to think he's an effective commander, Tony," Rhodey replied with a frustrated expression on his face. "And his second in command is Nick goddamn Fury. We put the both of them there for a _reason_ , Tony. Right there, on the border, we need our best men, and they are it. Their records are both spotless, and their loyalty has never been in question."

"Yeah?" Tony challenged, wishing like hell that he could reach out and talk to Steve like Rhodey could talk to Carol, "well, it sounds like at least one of them is plotting a mutiny. I know for a fact that you gave strict orders about those patrols."

It was like tripping a switch; Tony suddenly felt Steve's presence strongly enough that he looked over his shoulder and expected his Bonded to be standing there. Rhodey gave him a strange look, but replied to his words rather than his weirdness. "Tony, it could also be something else entirely."

"Then why did you come in here looking like this was the worst news you've gotten in weeks?" Tony demanded, ignoring Bucky and Peggy and their strange expressions of mixed amusement and impatience for the moment.

"Because," Rhodey groaned, "even if there isn't any rebellion brewing, the lack of patrols is still an issue that requires correcting."

"So send Carol and Parker with new orders," Tony shot back. "Why do I need to be involved?"

Peggy interceded. "Laman," she told him, firm and not deferent in the least, "you need to put your foot down. Your Council just committed treason en masse. It could spell civil war if your army does, as well. Even if they only appear to."

Tony made a face. "Can it wait until after I've dealt with helping Pepper? That's kind of urgent."

Rhodey hesitated. "Probably. I can send Carol to play backup to your Bonded and his team and have her ask around about what's going on in the meantime."

Bucky gave him a long look. "And if that doesn't work? What then?"

Tony rounded on him and bit back the rising growl and urge to lash out. "That depends on what Carol reports. If this trap you think Steve stumbled into turns out to be a dud, nothing. I have to get that poison that her Council put in her back out of my wife. That takes priority right now, since Steve hasn't been attacked or hurt. This attack you suspect will come? It's entirely possible that you're right, and if anything does happen I will have to deal with that. But, right now, in this moment, I can't put the attack that _might_ come over the one that _has already hit_ and may yet kill someone I love dearly if I dally too long. Or if your comrades arrive too late with their ingredients. The price of failure here is too high for me to accept. If you're so worried about your friend, who has proven that he's quite a capable fighter and tactician, _go help him instead of badgering me_."

Bucky stepped back as though he'd been slapped, and Peggy put a hand on his arm when it looked like he might growl back. "Come on, Barnes. He's not wrong about that. General, would you have your Bonded meet us on the walls?"

The trio left silently, and Tony allowed himself a moment to bury his face in his hands and hope that Steve was wrong about that trap. He didn't need another rebellion to quell so soon after the first. Much less one that could injure or kill his Bonded just as easily as the first had Pepper.

It took him some time to get his focus back on his work after that, and Tony begrudged every minute.

Now that there was more than the mere possibility that Steve might get badly injured trying to defend a country that he wasn't beholden to, Tony had as much responsibility to keep Steve's skin intact as Pepper's.

Add to that the fact that Steve had offered himself, in the most literal way, to save Pepper, and Tony _owed_ him. Owed far more than he could hope to repay. First Steve had saved him. Then he'd turned right around and handed Tony the tools to save Pepper.

And it really didn't help matters that Tony was pretty sure he was falling head over heels in love with the stubborn ass, and nevermind that they'd known each other for about a week.


	22. [Tony]

Somehow, despite the care he took not to think about Steve and the fact that his Bonded might be in trouble, the knowledge kept pricking at him now that Steve's Lieutenants and Rhodey had brought it to his attention. Not even the certainty that Pepper was dying by inches was enough to stave it off.

Luckily for his sanity, he'd been nearly finished when he'd been interrupted, and starting the testing phase had been fairly simple to do.

Waiting impatiently for his improvised set up to produce enough of the counter agent, Tony had paced, torn between the need to see his work through to the end and the nagging feeling that he needed to go after Steve and haul the idiot back out of the trap he'd willingly walked into.

"Damned moron," Tony grumbled. "Why didn't he just turn back and bring his whole squad?"

"I believe," JARVIS answered the mostly rhetorical question, "he likely felt it better not to alert the people who set the alleged trap that he was aware of it, even as he sent word back to you to ensure that the news reached you and the General. It is sound strategy, sir, and limits the potential damage as much as possible by leaving him the chance to either escape or have some help getting out."

Tony ran his hands through his hair in a frustrated gesture. "Has there been any word from Carol?"

"Not as yet, sir. It is likely that she and her traveling companions are only just arriving in Mahlibhu." 

Taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment, Tony refocused his attention for what felt like the hundredth time in the last two hours, and checked on the tiny reservoir that would collect the water-based remedy he'd been developing.

A few drops had collected in the bottom.

It was just enough to let him test the liquid's efficacy.

If this failed, he'd have to hope that Steve's Commandos returned in time with their ingredients. He had found no other way to produce a meaningful amount of Erskine's serum in time for it to be useful.

Moving almost gingerly, for all that he _needed_ to test this before he offered it to Pepper, Tony picked up the tiny vial of Extremis that Natasha had mysteriously acquired somehow.

The clear liquid inside sloshed against the glass walls of the vial as he carefully unstoppered the thing to pour a few drops of it into a metal dish. It almost seemed to move with a mind of its own, reminding Tony of the way quicksilver acted.

He waited for it to settle in the bottom of the dish, then squared his shoulders. "Moment of truth," he muttered, picking up his counteragent.

JARVIS was silent, apparently almost as on-edge as Tony.

Tempted to close his eyes against the chance he might have miscalculated, Tony tipped half of the vaguely blue-tinged counteragent out into the bowl.

Despite his fears that nothing would happen, though, the mixture swirled dark blue almost immediately, going the color of the sky at dusk before seeming to glow white before it settled on clear again.

"Huh." Tony eyed it warily. "That was more dramatic than I thought it would be. Results, JARVIS?"

"Preliminary analysis suggests that your test was successful," his AI replied, and Tony wanted to let himself go limp in relief. "It would be wise to cross check against the blood sample Captain Rogers gave you, however, to confirm that you have accurately reproduced Dr. Erskine's serum."

"Yeah, okay." Tony nodded, more or less to himself. "You see any reactions that would make it dangerous to Pepper, though?"

"I detected no anomalous readings except that flash of light and the change in color. The reaction did not appear to produce any excess heat or an abrupt change in pH or salinity. You must still resolve the question of how to administer it, however, as I do not believe your version of the serum would easily tolerate being directly injected or swallowed."

"Run the injection sims again," Tony ordered, "see if you can find a way to make it work. Try mixing it with the anti-allergy medication we helped the healers develop a few years ago."

"Running." JARVIS went silent, and Tony turned his attention back to his test run. So far, so good. 

Picking up the scrap of parchment that he'd smeared with Steve's blood made his hands tingle. Tony turned it over in his hands a few times, weirdly reluctant to use it for its intended purpose. He brushed a finger over the rust red spot that marred the smooth surface.

Oddly it felt like the bond between them was stronger when he did that. It felt as though he could reach out and touch warm skin, for all that leagues separated them physically. Was this what Rhodey and Carol felt all the time? This... immediacy? Instinct was insisting that he could pull Steve into his arms and shelter him as Steve had, while Tony had been stuck in his scales and unable to shift back. It had been like leaning against a solid weathered oak and soaking up sunlight. The feeling had bolstered his flagging endurance and brought with it a break from the pain that had almost seemed to sparkle with its purity.

Blinking himself back to the present, Tony touched the spot again, pressing his finger down over it more firmly, and that time instead of reminding Tony of his own recovery it sent a jolt of carefully controlled nerves and pain through him that made his eyes widen.

"Fuck."

There was no way that had come from him. Nerves, maybe. But he wasn't in pain anymore. It had to be coming from Steve. Maybe he'd bet wrong after all.

"Sir?" JARVIS sounded like he'd tried to gain Tony's attention several times.

Now what was he supposed to do? He needed to test his serum, but he didn't want to use the little piece of parchment for fear that the test would destroy it, and thus also his tighter connection to Steve.

"Our deadline just got shorter, J. I'm going to test this, and if there's still no news from Carol afterwards, I'm going out there myself."

Tearing the parchment carefully in half, Tony tucked one piece carefully away, found a fresh bowl, then put one scrap of parchment in it. All but holding his breath, he tipped a drop of Extremis over it.


	23. [Pepper]

Waking was wearing, each time she opened her eyes feeling more difficult than the last.

This time, though, things felt more important. For one thing, Tony was there. Rhodes was yelling at him over something she didn't understand, just yet, but it had to be important.

"Pep?" Tony's hand suddenly went around hers, warm and solid and comforting, and she shivered, suddenly feeling cold. She gripped back, and he went on, encouraged. "Come on, Pep, wake up. Don said you were doing great."

Peeling her eyes open took effort, and left her blearily staring up at the ceiling, unable to will her eyes to focus just yet.

"That's it," Tony's hand tightened on hers a hair. "You need to eat something, and then Don says we can try the counteragent I made."

"Tony," Rhodes said, sounding like he was fighting not to grind his teeth, "you are not getting out of our discussion that easily."

"One thing at a time, Rhodey," Tony shot back. "We can talk about my Bonded and yours in a few minutes. Think you could handle food, Pepper pot?"

Not quite trusting her voice, Pepper nodded, feeling her hair catch against the pillow. It was probably an unholy mess. She didn't let go of Tony's hand, though, and he seemed just as reluctant to let go, despite his own obvious worry and unease.

What felt like instants later, Don was hurrying in with a tray of foods he deemed suitable. "Maharani," he said quietly as she fought to raise her head and Tony jumped in to help her sit up, "you must know one thing; we have tested this counter agent, and it appears effective, but we have no way to be sure it will not have adverse effects. If you feel strong enough, you may still opt to wait for the ingredients we've sent for that will complete the recipe for the known and tested antidote."

"Tony?" Pepper wanted to wince at just how hoarse her voice was.

"Don's right, Pepper," he admitted. "I've run tests, but there was no time to waste trying it on a person."

Pepper didn't answer for a long minute, considering, taking stock of the way she felt, as she sipped gingerly at the hot calorie-rich soup on the tray. It had not been long, but she already felt like she'd spent a week without sleep. What Don had told her about the poison in her body, in one of her lucid moments early on, said that the exhaustion would only get worse with time. "Try it."

Rhodes took that moment to start yelling at Tony some more. "Well, you've got one problem solved now, right," he said, his tone somewhere between irritation and disbelief, "gonna explain how the hell you know that Rogers is hurt when Carol has no idea yet?"

Obviously something had happened while she'd been stuck in this bed. Pepper kept her hold on Tony's hand and let Rhodes pry the answers out of him.

Tony made a grumpy sound that approximated a sigh. "We've been over this a hundred times. I can feel him, now, and all I'm getting from him is pain."

"You know as well as I do that bonds take weeks or sometimes months to get that strong," Rhodes pointed out.

"So? I'm telling you, it's true."

Rhodes pinched at the bridge of his nose. "Alright, let's assume for a minute that I believe you. How is you running off to Mahlibhu going to help him? Carol said Pierce told her that he left for a rendez-vous with his team. His team said he never showed up. No one knows where he is."

"So I'll find him."

"First you need to make sure someone here can take over the reins, if you do."

Tony snorted, but didn't object to the statement. "Y'hear that, Pep? You need to get better so I can keep my kingdom from splintering and going to war with the griffons."

"Carol's still out there, searching," Rhodes tried to soothe Tony. "She found you, she'll find him. She likes Rogers."

"That's not enough, Rhodey, and you know it," Tony replied hotly, running his free hand through hair that was already quite disheveled. He looked like he'd been awake for several days. After a beat he went on. "If it was Carol out there, what would you do? Let your men search? Would you be able to stand back?"

Pepper wanted to intercede, but her eyes were doing their best to close again. Tony noticed immediately and turned his attention to keeping her awake. "Pep, Pepper, come on, you have to finish your meal."

"Tired," she managed to mumble.

"I know, but you need the energy," he told her. As if she didn't know that.

Rather than wait for her to fumble to pick up the next plate, he took it in his hands and offered it to her. Pepper wasn't sure how to feel about Tony's obvious need to hurry to his Bonded's side. On the one hand, it was instinctual. On the other, she wanted him here. Having to let him go so soon after he'd gotten home, after his presumed death and still injured, and while she was still so weak was making her very uneasy. She would be an easy target until she'd recovered.

Pepper brought her free hand up to rest over Tony's, where he held the plate and enjoyed the way his eyes met hers as though magnetized. They stayed frozen like that for a moment, and Pepper suddenly felt like she could breathe again. Tony was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered to him in that moment, for all that his subconscious was screaming at him to run off after the man who had saved him.

Rhodes growled something under his breath that Pepper couldn't make out about morons and impossibilities. "If you're going to persist in this insanity, at least wait until the Maharani is cured, and take an escort with you."

Looking like he knew Rhodes was entirely correct and hated having to admit it, Tony gave in. "Fine. Get Don in here, then, and let's get this started."

Pepper blinked, and when she reopened her eyes, Tony hadn't let go of her hand. Don was standing over her, looking vaguely disapproving. "Well," he told her sternly, I would have been happier if you had eaten more, since the healing will take almost as much energy as the poison has demanded. Time is short, however."

Rhodes put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "Don't even think of leaving before you've seen this through."


	24. [Tony]

In the end, it had taken two days that had worn him ragged to get everything settled, and Pepper back on her feet.

Watching Don administer the counteragent had been a unique kind of pain, and Tony didn't know what to do with that knowledge. Pepper's life had rested on his ability to design and test this new counteragent, and no one had known how it would react to actually being inside a person.

To make the situation tenser, there had been no way he could sit next to Pepper as she recovered, either. He needed to deal with the work that had been piling up while he built and tested and she slept. The nobles of his kingdom never had been an easy group to govern, with their short tempers and fractiousness. It was like they needed to fight to be content, paradoxical as that sounded.

Tony threw himself into the work -- he desperately needed the distraction, really -- and did what he could to get things straightened out as quickly as he could.

While he'd been fighting to ignore the pull on his subconscious from Steve and Pepper's struggle not to give in to the drug in her system, no one had really kept an eye on the rest of the kingdom. Well, except for the Spymaster.

There was nowhere near as much chaos to sort out as he'd feared, because Natasha was excellent at what she did. But she simply did not have the authority to say yes or no to certain requests.

Once she realised that he was no longer holed up in Pepper's room or his workshop, Natasha tracked him down and handed him a sheaf of papers. "These require a decision," she told him. "Say yes or no, I don't care. But deal with them. For the most part things have been quiet, but you need to get on with choosing a new Council, if the Maharani is still indisposed." 

Tony stared down at the papers for a long minute. "Who're the top candidates?"

"Osborne, Hogan, and Bain."

Tony made a face. "No."

Natasha smirked. "No?"

"No. Hogan, Fujikawa, and Cabe," he countered.

The smirk became a pleased half smile. "I'll see to it that the usual paperwork is drafted. You may want to make a public statement about the rumours of your Bonding and the possible rebellion in Mahlibhu."

"That's already leaked?" Tony groaned.

"Stane made a very public accusation when he attacked you, and Rogers didn't deny anything. Neither did you. It might as well be official, meantime." Natasha shrugged, and Tony suspected she was enjoying this conversation immensely. "The situation in Mahlibhu is still largely under debate among the Keep's residents, so you can present it whichever way you think is best, for the time being."

Squaring his shoulders, Tony had pretty much done just that. Natasha's advice had never yet steered him wrong. The woman had an almost preternatural ability to read people and navigate tricky social situations. The announcement that, yes, he had met his Bonded, was received with minimal surprise.

He'd held off on giving out any specifics about Mahlibhu, choosing instead to present it as a possible Hydra attack that he would be taking actions to counter, personally, the moment Pepper was feeling well enough to re-assume her role as Maharani.

That had gotten a lot of speculative murmurs from the assembled crowd of humans and dragons.

The announcement he'd tacked onto that -- that Pepper would have full authority in his absence, as she had while he'd been presumed dead, and that she would retain that authority even if he was in residence or actually dead -- had turned the murmurs into a dull roar.

That decision was more or less unprecedented.

He'd held up his hands after a few moments. "I know many of you feel that this is an affront to our Law and all tradition. I take this step only because my Premier and no less than _three_ of the Maharani's Councilors committed treason, and attempted a coup. This is a situation that we as a people have never yet faced, and it calls for changes to our Law, to our Tradition. We have many ways of instilling responsibility and ensuring that treasonous acts are kept to a minimum, like the Airing of Grievances that the Maharani usually presides over. But it is clear that that is not enough, in the face of the Hydra threat."

That had shut everyone up.

"Once the Maharani has recovered from her injuries fully, there will be a formal transfer of power ceremony," he'd added, the words falling into the silence like stones, "but my decision is effective immediately."

He'd surveyed the hall and nodded, then turned and swept out, doing his best to wear what confidence he had left to him like a cloak.

Natasha had met him at the door as he'd left, falling into step beside him. "That should keep most tongues from wagging," she'd informed him. "General Rhodes has news from his Bonded."

"Finally." Tony shifted the bundle of papers Natasha had handed him an hour ago under his arm -- he'd all but forgotten they were there -- and simply changed course to head for Rhodey's office rather than Pepper's bedside.

Rhodey had clearly been expecting him. "Sit down, Tony," he said in lieu of a greeting, ignoring Natasha's continued presence entirely.

"You've heard from Carol."

"Not the news I know you're hoping for."

Tony felt his jaw set. "He's not dead, Rhodey," he repeated, stubbornly. He'd say it ad nauseam until people believed him.

"He's still missing. Per the griffons' combat regulations, he's been declared killed in action, and Ms. Carter has assumed command."

The words felt like a sucker punch. "You telling me they're giving up?" Tony hissed.

"They're not giving up," Natasha said, her voice calm and measured. "The griffons' elite strike units transfer command to the highest ranking officer after a period of two days, should their commander be captured or killed. The rule for their other fighting units is seven days."

"Setting aside how exactly you know that--" 

"Tony," Rhodey interrupted him. "Shut up and sit down."

He hadn't realised he'd ended up on his feet, emotion driving him out of his chair faster than conscious thought could follow. Taking a shuddering breath, he forced himself to sit down, the driving need to _find Steve_ suddenly intensifying and sharpening enough to make him want to pace some more, for all that he'd done plenty of that over the last few days.

"The Maharani is improving rapidly," Natasha said after a few seconds, breaking the tense silence. "If all goes well, you can go after Rogers in the morning."

"You're insisting on an escort," Tony told Rhodey, "have them ready to go at sunrise. If they're not, I'm not waiting for them."


	25. [Tony]

Despite the surprised reaction to his announcement that Pepper would be invested with all his authority, the actual ceremony making it official went smoothly. The new Councilors he'd had appointed stood to witness, wearing their new badges of ceremony proudly.

Pepper, lucid though pale and weak, immediately retired, the moment the ceremony was over, and Tony followed suit. He'd all but wrapped himself bodily around her once she'd been settled in their wide bed, and just watched her until she'd broken the silence.

"Tony?"

"Hm?" He didn't bother searching for words, content just to hold her again and tuck his nose into the soft hair behind her ear.

"If you do find him and bring him back here," Pepper said softly, "what happens, then?"

"Same thing that would have happened after he came home on his own."

Pepper's lips quirked, and Tony realised just what he'd said. "And what's that?" She persisted.

Tony huffed a breath of warm air against her neck in what wasn't _quite_ a frustrated sigh. "Depends on what he wants. I want him to stay. Announced that to the world."

He heard more than saw the amusement twisting Pepper's features. "Do you really think he'd want to leave?"

"He has obligations he can't abandon," Tony replied, knowing he probably sounded rather bitter about that. "And so do I. I have a kingdom I'm sworn to govern and I have you. Pep, you always were everything I ever wanted and needed."

"But now you want him, too."

"Yeah," Tony wrapped his arms around her more tightly, "I do. But I'm sure as hell not trading you for him."

Pepper's hand came up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck and scratch gently at his scalp. "I love you too, Tony," she told him, sleep heavy in her voice. "Go find him, bring him back here, and we'll talk about this with him present."

A shudder of relief went through him.

"I'm not coming back without him," Tony agreed, knowing she would be able to hear the iron determination in his voice. He'd temper that iron into steel if he had to. Steve was coming back here with him, dead or alive.

The pain he'd been feeling from Steve for the last two days had started fading, now, and that was only driving Tony's urgency higher. Steve had always been a steadfast presence, even when Tony hadn't been able to feel him through the bond yet. Feeling that presence fading was the worst possible kind of driving force.

Closing his eyes, Tony did his best to convince his mind to quiet long enough to sleep.

_I'm coming, Steve. Hold on._

* * *

He woke the next morning feeling like he hadn't slept at all, but the knowledge that Steve's strength was fading as Pepper's had was enough to have him staggering to his feet regardless.

Pepper muttered something unintelligible when the motion jostled her and shifted to pull Tony's pillow against her face.

The sight was enough to bring a smile to his face regardless of the circumstances. Only the sure knowledge that the immediate threat within the Keep had been dealt with was keeping him from insisting that Rhodey stay at her side day and night during his absence.

Knowing he would want it later, if only as an additional bit of firepower and insurance against trouble, Tony sent his armour the command to assemble and take position on the walls of the Keep.

"Mmmm, Tony?"

He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand through Pepper's hair. She looked distinctly better already, less pale and somehow steadier. "Yeah?"

"Be careful." Pepper's voice was deadly serious for all that she hadn't opened her eyes.

Tony couldn't help the amused huff the words pulled out of him. "No promises," he joked, enjoying the way she turned into the touch. "You know me, Pep."

"That's what worries me." Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. "You went on what should have been a routine trip across the border and nearly got killed. This is already a lot more dangerous to start with."

"Maybe," Tony replied, "but this time we're expecting trouble."

Pepper made a disbelieving sound and used her free hand to pull him down by his collar for a kiss.

She tasted warm and sleepy, and Tony swore he could feel the lingering effects of the cure-all he'd so hastily made up for her. It was like a tingle on his tongue.

The caress quickly turned dirty and promising, tempting him so badly to stay in bed that he nearly gave in and tumbled her across the sheets on the spot. His body suddenly primed and ready, Tony shifted, letting the kiss get deeper and rougher.

Before he could make the decision to follow through on the urge, Pepper broke the kiss. "Something to remind you what you're coming back to. Now, go."

Tony cleared his throat and adjusted himself before he stood. Pepper's pleased smirk was almost enough to make up for the discomfort of having to dress, in his state.

"Tease," he grumbled.

Pepper laughed at him and settled herself on the bed in one of her favourite alluring poses. "Sometimes."

Sure he would feel the effects of that kiss for hours, Tony growled a curse under his breath and gingerly stood, gritting his teeth when the fabric of his trousers rubbed against sensitive flesh just the wrong way.

He finished making himself presentable in silence, though, and Pepper said nothing, watching him with an appreciative look in her eyes.

With a final deep steadying breath, he straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. It was time. "I'll be back before you know it."

"You'd better."

The air was chill, so early in the morning, and Tony had to suppress a shiver as he walked the short distance to the ramparts, where his armour waited, like a silent red-and-gold sentinel.

Carol stood beside it, Rhodey casually half-seated on one of the crenellations to her right. "About time you got here," Carol grumbled, looking like she would far rather have been abed, herself.

Tony grinned. "My wife had a few last instructions."

Rhodey rolled his eyes and turned to the small escort of five that he'd assembled to go with them, rallying the group and getting them into formation. Interestingly, his spymaster was among them. "Carter and Barnes will meet us there," his General informed him, and Tony nodded, still eyeing Natasha a little suspiciously.

That made sense. They would still be in Mahlibhu, searching, no doubt. "Any fresh news?"

"None, Laman." Rhodey looked solemn. "Captain Rogers is a canny fighter, it's true, and you say he still lives, but after so long with no word, is that really likely?"

Tony gritted his teeth. He knew Rhodey was trying to soften a blow that hadn't yet come, but all it was serving to accomplish was to make him angrier at whoever had tried to take Steve from him. "I don't much care. I intend to find him."

Rhodey gave in with a shrug, and Tony stepped back to call on the change. It was reassuring in a visceral kind of way to feel the scales flow over his skin and the membranes of his wings stretch taut as he stretched.

"<<Are we ready to fly?>>"

Carol grinned, and Tony recognized the look she wore when she was itching for a fight. "Come on, Bonded," she nodded, "let's go. Before the Laman takes off without us, as he threatened."

Rhodey rolled his eyes subtly. "Everyone shift and fall in. Those with passengers, remember to keep your maneuvers gentle."

"Aye, Sir," the escort saluted.

They were in the air under a minute later, to Tony's relief. It wouldn't be long now, Tony told himself as he picked out the directest route south and took off, trusting that the others would follow. The armour keeping pace at his side was more comforting than he'd have thought it would be.

The flight passed in almost total silence, and for once it didn't bother Tony. He could feel Rhodey and Carol giving him weird looks when they thought he wasn't paying attention, but it felt like some force was urging him forward, pulling him onwards.

They arrived at Mahlibhu earlier than expected, and Rhodey muttered something about bonds and instinct and insufferable idiots, but he didn't do more than that.

When they alit in the landing area of the Mahlibhu fortress, Pierce and Fury were there to meet them, having somehow anticipated the visit, despite the lack of warning Tony had allowed them.

That was enough to make Tony instantly suspicious.

He accepted their greetings, then stood back as Rhodey began asking questions about the patrols and why they weren't running.

Pierce spun some tale about the schedules having changed slightly, and it only appearing that the patrols had been discontinued. Rhodey, to his credit, didn't do more than raise an eyebrow and make a comment about unconventional tactics.

While Pierce explained that the local Hydra cells had been rooted out and brought under control in another attempt to justify the lack of visible patrols, Natasha had pulled her usual vanishing act. She was incredibly good at fading into the background and taking off to do whatever she did when she gathered information. Tony himself had only noticed because he'd glanced around, looking for her, wanting her impression of Pierce's story.

Before anyone else noticed that she had gone anywhere, though, she was back, and had somehow produced Barnes and Carter out of thin air. They stood at her back quietly as Rhodey finished his conversation with Pierce.

That was the moment Tony's instincts pricked at him. He glanced up at the walls of the fortress and only then noticed that they had been gradually filling with men and dragons, facing inward.

There was only one reason for them to face the courtyard, rather than the outside.

Tony felt a smirk tug at his features. Finally, they could take action.

Carol caught his eyes and nodded.


	26. [Tony]

The tension in the courtyard hitched up a few notches higher when, without pausing to verbally acknowledge what was happening, Fury and several of his subordinates silently and pointedly shifted to stand behind Rhodey.

This was the line drawn in the sand.

"Commandant Pierce," Rhodey said, without missing a beat. "Are you prepared for the consequences of your actions?"

Pierce scoffed. "The question is: are you, General?"

Carol took that as her cue to shift, rearing back on her hind legs as her wings flared behind her. "<<I executed the Premier for treason not four days ago,>>" she growled, and Tony had to suppress a flinch at the memories, "<<are you certain you want to test me, Pierce?>>"

On the heels of that demand, the courtyard dissolved into a brawl, and Tony shifted on instinct, taking to the skies and launching himself up just high enough to get himself out of immediate bow range. He called up his armour and sent it headlong into the brewing fight, strafing along the walls and picking off any man too distracted to notice its presence.

As the archers on the walls started scattering, Fury shifted and his lieutenant seemed to vanish. Tony remembered Coulson, remembered him well. The dragon had served with exemplary creativity and effectiveness during the last war. His Bonded, Barton, was a sniper to rival anyone Tony had ever met.

The pair of them popped back up on the walls and worked their way methodically through the men on the opposite side of the fortress, clearly aiming to meet the armour in the middle.

Carol was tearing through any opposition she could sink her teeth into, metaphorically and literally, in her dogged pursuit of Pierce. After what had happened with Obie, she seemed to take this sort of treason _very_ personally. Rhodey, perched on her shoulders, was watching her back so she could focus on her pursuit without worrying about leaving men alive to potentially shoot at her wings and ground her.

The rest of his escort, joined by Carter and Barnes, was doing their best to keep the contingent fighters in the courtyard proper under control.

When Tony looked back down at the courtyard a beat later, Natasha was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Carol, who seemed to have shifted human again to chase down Pierce. Rhodey had turned up at Fury's side, instead.

The moment after he'd finished sending his armour on one circuit of the walls, Tony felt a weak tug on his attention, pulling him toward the basement levels of the fortress.

_Steve._

Before he could follow it, though, it faded back out of his awareness, leaving behind an oddly empty chill.

Tony froze, surprised, then had to hastily backwing to stay in the air.

Calling his armour back to his side, he bodily threw himself back at the walls, drawing a deep breath as he went. Prepared to flame or repulsor anyone or anything that stood between him and his objective, Tony didn't hesitate.

"<<Rhodes,>>" he asked as he passed, "<<where is Carol?>>"

"Fortress dungeons!"

Well, good. He'd have reinforcements once he got in there. That was surely why Carol had shifted human. The corridors inside were -- very deliberately -- too narrow for a dragon.

He didn't want to shift human. He wasn't a strong enough fighter for that.

The choice was simple in the end: Steve or the Fortress.

Powering up the suit's repulsors, Tony used his knowledge of the fortress's structure to pick out the weakest point -- weakened by bombardment during the last war and never fully repaired -- and blasted at it.

The first hit set stone chips flying, but didn't do much more. The second rattled the building stones in their casements.

The third, though. The third resulted in one of the large stones breaking loose and pulling four others with it as it fell to the courtyard floor with a loud thud.

Tony kept at it. It took another five shots, but there was a hole in the wall now, large enough for a man to squeeze his head and shoulders through.

A beat later, that was exactly what happened. Tony had to hastily redirect his next repulsor blast.

"Friendly, friendly!" The guy flinched away but recovered quickly, and Tony recognised one of Steve's Commandos. The fighting in the courtyard had died down to a few scattered pockets of resistance, meantime, and Barton was gleefully taking pot shots at all of them.

Carter appeared at Tony's shoulder like magic. "Dumdum! Where are the others?"

"All still alive, as far as I know, but we were separated. Morita's in here with me, but I have no idea where they took Rogers and the others. There's fighting in the corridor, and whoever it is sounds ready to kill."

"That'll be Danvers." Carter relaxed, relieved. "Hang on, we'll get you out."

"You're acting Captain, then?"

"Unless Rogers reswears his oaths."

Tony tucked away that new bit of knowledge and continued destroying the fortress wall. Those on foot had started marching their prisoners into a corner where they could be watched more easily, and several dragons had chosen to stand guard, Fury among them.

It was under a minute before he had opened a hole large enough for the pair of Commandos in the cell to climb out, blinking in the bright morning sunlight, and him to get his whole hand and arm in to continue widening the opening.

Giving in to the demands of the laws of physics, Tony stopped before he brought the entire wall down on them, and sent his armour in ahead of him, then shifted human again.

Once he was in, it took a second for his eyes to adjust, and now he could hear Carol screeching war cries somewhere nearby.

Rather than wait for her to get to him, Tony used the armour to force the dungeon door open, and sent it through to attack anyone in the corridor. To his surprise, the narrow space seemed to be empty, all the resistance elsewhere.

He could tell Steve was close by, though.

The tug on his attention hadn't resumed, but Tony could _tell_ somehow. Like a lodestone orienting north, he could feel Steve, somehow.

There were curious shouts from further down the corridor, as well. Tony knew he was more vulnerable this way. Knew he might need the backup. So he forced himself to turn the other way down the corridor, away from Steve, long enough to get the other Commandos out of their cell.

Natasha popped up at his side as he forced open the door of their cell. "Stark," she murmured, "are you alright?"

"No," he replied, managing to keep most of the growl out of his voice. "Not yet."

She silently followed him as he gave his instincts free rein and made a beeline for the room where Steve was being kept. It was some distance away from the area where the Commandos had been locked up, and, ominously, looked a lot like it should be a healer's workspace, but everything about it was off-kilter just enough that it was obviously _not._

What the fuck had they been doing to his Bonded?

Ignoring Natasha's caution and the Commandos' curiosity, Tony used his armour to break down one more door, which seemed to lead to a smaller room a lot like those used for patients injured badly enough to need privacy or isolation for their care --

\-- and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that met his eyes.

Steve lay, unmoving and pale, on a surface that looked more like a table than a bed, his arms and legs tightly bound and secured to it. Another sturdy leather strap went around his waist, preventing him from attempting to yank his limbs free. A short fat man stood at Steve's right shoulder, with what appeared to be a syringe in his hand.

"Welcome, Mr. Stark," the unknown man said, ignoring the others who followed him into the room, twisted pleasure ringing clear in his tone, "you are just in time."

"In time for what?" Tony demanded, watching the man warily.

The guy looked down at Steve, lying limply in his restraints, and smiled nastily. "His death."


	27. [Tony]

Tony couldn't stop his instinctive step forward, or the growl that rose in his throat.

Natasha didn't let him attack the guy, though; her hand was suddenly firmly on his forearm, holding him back. "And your demands?" she asked coolly.

The guy sniffed almost disdainfully. "Hydra has only one demand: submit to the new world order."

Natasha's hand left Tony's arm. "And if we do, you'll let him free?" She asked, her tone seemingly idle.

"Oh, it is far too late for the Captain, here."

Before anyone else could react, Natasha was in motion.

Unfortunately, so was the Hydra agent, whoever he was. In the split second before she reached him and handily pinned him to the floor, he managed to jam the syringe into Steve's upper arm, just below the shoulder, and push almost half of the contents.

"What was in that syringe?" Natasha snarled at him.

"It matters not," the still-unnamed man choked out. "You will not find a cure before he expires."

"What. Was. In. The. Syringe?" Natasha twisted his wrist more viciously with each word.

Tony ignored her in favor of freeing Steve from the restraints and hauling him up off the table. The Commandos who had followed them into the room had split into two groups by some kind of silent agreement, two of them helping Tony and the rest arranging themselves around Natasha, and looming threateningly.

One of the two helping him -- Morita -- carefully took the syringe out of Steve's arm and found a glass tube to stash it in. The other, Dugan, was supporting half of Steve's weight. It was clear Steve's strength was all but exhausted, and there was no way he would be able to stand, even with their help.

Outside the doors, the sounds of Carol fighting and screeching at her opponents finally calmed, and a tense, almost ominous, silence fell.

"Get Rogers out of here," Gabe looked up long enough to instruct them, "he needs medical attention, yesterday, regardless of what this guy just put in him."

"You got it," Dugan replied crisply, nodding. "Jim, bring that along, we may need it."

"Right." Morita nodded back. "Time to go."

Tony found himself back out in the early morning sunlight with them shortly after. They'd more or less hauled him out of the room with them.

It was only once they were back out in the open air of the courtyard that Tony managed to draw a full breath. "What--" he managed to try to ask before words failed him. All of his instincts were screaming at him to just curl up around Steve and keep everyone the hell away from him, but he knew that wouldn't fix the problem.

"We need to get him somewhere safe, with healers you trust," Dugan told him, his tone careful and level. "You're the fastest flyer here that's not otherwise occupied, and I know you're strong enough to carry him and Morita."

Barely.

Tony thought frantically about weight-to-lift ratios and his own slow recovery from what had happened in the mountains and how recent that was, and winced. "Can't take you, though, Dugan."

The statement got him a fey grin. "That's okay. I'll stay here and beat some answers out of these scum. I want to know what the hell they did to our mounts. Now get going. Time waits for no one, and you don't have much of it, by the looks of things."

Swallowing back the renewed rush of mingled worry and fear that the words sent through him, Tony nodded and reached for the shift. His scales seemed to flow out faster and more easily than usual, somehow, as though responding to the urgency of the situation.

The moment he was settled on his four feet, Morita all but shoved Steve at him. Tony nearly fumbled catching his Bonded out of sheer surprise. Clearly he wasn't the only one feeling the seconds pour away like water out of a broken jug. Carefully adjusting his hold on Steve, Tony hunkered down to offer Morita a way to climb onto his shoulders.

Luckily -- since Tony had no way of talking to the man while shifted -- someone had clued him in to how this worked. Probably Rhodey and Carol.

In moments, Morita was as firmly settled as he was going to get, and using one fist to thump at the scales between Tony's wings. Gingerly, unused to having a rider, Tony shifted his weight until he was in a better position to take off.

Getting into the air with the two of them weighing him down would be difficult, at best, because of the way they shifted his center of gravity. Gathering his strength, Tony did his best to take advantage of the altitude of the fortress walls that all but soared over the town itself and every last bit of lift that his legs could give him.

He had a few panicked moments -- where Morita yelled at him to fucking pull up and use the air currents properly and it seemed like he might fall to the ground and injure them all further or get them killed -- before he managed to get his flight leveled out.

Ignoring the continued swearing coming from his passenger, Tony focused on putting as much distance between them and the fortress as he could.

After that, time seemed to blur into meaninglessness. Instead, Tony found himself counting in wingbeats and Steve's shallow breaths, finding himself pushing himself harder the more Steve seemed to falter.

_No, Steve, come on. Don't you dare quit on me._ Tony found himself willing Steve to hear the words, not caring whether it worked, but needing his Bonded to know he was there, anyway. _You don't get to die. Not when I just got you out._

It seemed like the Keep came into view moments later, and Tony could have wept at the sheer relief that poured through him at the sight of the familiar spires that almost seemed to stab at the sky. They were spotted almost immediately, and Tony thanked every deity that had ever existed -- imaginary or not -- that they'd recognised him.

"<<Laman!>>" A dragon called, taking to the air and flying out to meet him, all long lines and grace, and he belatedly recognized Rumiko.

"<<I need Don and any other healers not asleep!>>" He replied, ignoring all form and manners in favor of efficiency as he passed her. "<<There was fighting at Mahlibhu!>>"

Rumiko backwinged, almost flailing in the air in her shock before she fell in beside him. "<<Are you hurt, Laman?>>"

"<<No, but he is.>>" Tony didn't bother with unnecessary gestures. She would be able to see that Morita was fine, where Steve hung in his grasp like a pale blond ragdoll.

With a heartfelt hiss of dismay and irritation, Rumiko sped off in the direction of the barracks, presumably to roust even those healers who _were_ asleep. Tony let her. He had more important things to worry about.


	28. [Pepper]

After her morning's duties, which she had blithely done from her seat, ignoring the convention that required her to stand, Pepper had taken the opportunity to ensconce herself on the Keep's ramparts in the summer sunlight. It was only barely mid-morning, and the air was still pleasantly cool despite the sun heating her skin.

She knew it was irrational, but a large part of her insisted that if she kept watch, Tony would come home sooner.

Parker, temporarily designated her aide until she had regained her strength or Rhodes and Carol returned, whichever happened first, stood awkwardly beside her, holding the sheaf of papers she needed to read and scanning the horizon.

"Are you sure about this, Maharani?"

"I am," Pepper patted the hard stone bench beside her in clear invitation. "If I try to wait indoors, I'll only drive myself and everyone else half mad."

There was no way Tony could possibly be back before midday. She knew that; but some instinct was insisting that she would need to be ready when he did.

It took her some time to focus her attention enough to read the paperwork that needed her signature, but eventually she managed. Mostly because Parker kept scanning the horizon, visibly almost as anxious about their Laman and General as she was.

Knowing that he would keep watch let her fight her way through about half of her reading. Parker's low exclamation of surprise and sudden focus on the southern horizon distracted her entirely, about an hour and a half later.

Standing and looking at the same point in the distance, Pepper had to squint to make out what Parker had spotted, but when she did she had to bite back an exclamation of her own. There was the distinctive silhouette of dragon wings just barely visible over the treetops, and whoever it was, was in a hurry.

Entirely distracted from her paperwork, Pepper tucked it under her arm and watched the silhouette grow larger and more distinct. By the time Rumiko took off to investigate, Pepper was almost sure it was Tony. Why he was in a hurry was not clear.

Rumiko seemed to agree with him, too. They conferred briefly, and then Rumiko hurried off toward the barracks. Tony made a beeline for the landing area instead, and after another few seconds that seemed to drag she could see that Tony was carrying someone in his arms and also had a rider perched between his shoulders.

Pepper hurried down into the open area of the courtyard around the landing area, sure that Parker would follow, and that Tony was exhausted. He looked worn thin, even in his scales. The problem was that Captain Rogers, now recognizable, hung in Tony's arms looking like he had already pierced the sky and gone to join his ancestors.

When Tony landed, a bit roughly because of the pair of men he carried, one of Rogers' Commandos -- she thought it was Morita -- all but fell off his shoulder, shouting for a healer.

Don appeared as if conjured, though he looked like he'd tumbled out of his bed mere moments ago, and took charge, assessing the situation at a glance. "Bring him," he snapped at Morita, and strode purposefully off toward the healing ward.

Pepper watched Morita snatch his Captain out of Tony's arms and hurry after Don as several more healers appeared around them, then took the opportunity that left her to step in close to Tony and check him over.

He stayed in his scales for a moment, his whole body trembling in exhaustion, then reached for the shift, staggering heavily against her and nearly sending them both tumbling to the flagstone floor. Parker's arms went around them both, and he kept them on their feet. "Laman! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Tony's voice almost rasped in his throat as he spoke, and Pepper wanted to wince.

"You're not fine," Pepper scolded him. "You need to eat and rest."

"But I--"

"No," Pepper made sure her voice was firm. She turned to Parker and offered him the sheaf of papers. "Would you see to it that these are put away safely? I must see to my husband."

"Of course, Maharani," Parker nodded. 

Putting her arm around his waist, Pepper pulled Tony against her, torn between relief that he was in one piece and guilt that his new Bonded wasn't, and steered Tony toward the door. "You are coming with me to our quarters," she told Tony, knowing Parker was still listening as he followed at their heels, "and we will have some lunch. Then you can go see what Don needs from you, if anything. He will send for you if there is an emergency."

A shudder went through Tony that seemed to rattle his very bones, but he didn't protest again.

"I'll have a light meal sent up, Maharani," Parker offered, and offered her a shallow bow as he left before she could thank him.

"That kid needs a promotion," Tony muttered almost under his breath.

"Worry about that later," Pepper admonished him, "and come sit down. You look dead on your feet."

"Feel like it, too," Tony admitted.

It felt like the rest of the short trip to their quarters lasted half an eternity, but then the door loomed in front of her. Suddenly tired, Pepper unlocked it and pushed it open, guiding Tony through it, and let the door shut behind her under its own weight.

She managed to push Tony down into a chair, then take the one beside him for herself.

Tony let himself slump sideways without a word until their shoulders were touching. Pepper leaned into him, enjoying the contact and letting him take part of her weight in return. It was oddly comforting.

Some unknown length of time later, there was a quiet knock at the door. "Come," Pepper instructed, deciding she didn't care that they were in less than perfect shape. They'd just fought their way tooth and nail through one of the most difficult fortnights the kingdom had experienced in living memory, and she felt they were allowed a moment of weakness.

"Decided to bring it myself," Parker answered, carefully opening the door and carrying through a fully laden tray of what appeared to be anything the kitchen had on hand. He set it down on the table that occupied one corner of the large space, gave them a quick once-over, then left looking satisfied.

"Definitely needs a promotion." Tony repeated.

He sounded better already.


	29. [Tony]

They managed to eat about half of the meal Pepper had requested and Parker had brought up before they were interrupted again. Tony spent the time enjoying having Pepper pressed up against his side as much as he could while trying not to think about the fact that Steve was still fighting for his life.

The renewed knocking at their door made Tony jump. This time, feeling less worn down, he made the effort to straighten his clothes and posture. "Yes? Who's there?"

The door opened to reveal Don, who looked grim. "Laman. Maharani." He greeted them both politely. "I have grave news."

The healer's words brought all the tension he'd managed to set aside come rushing back, and Tony had to grit his teeth against the need to be at Steve's side. "What is it?" He managed to bite out.

Don took a deep breath to steady himself. "Had you been minutes later, all your haste might have been for naught," he started, and gracefully ignored the growl Tony couldn't keep from rumbling deep in his chest at the thought. "It is well you brought the syringe with you, for the formula it contained was one we had not yet encountered. It is a mixture of Extremis and several other exotic poisons used by Hydra assassins. In most cases, the smallest amount could kill, and he has had quite a lot 'administered'." The last word came out as something of a sneer.

Pepper went still. "Will he live?"

"He has not yet perished, and that is enough to give me hope, but he will need every assistance we can offer." Don looked like he wanted to inch back out the door, and Tony realized he probably was acting really threatening. "Laman," he went on, "we've used the remaining counteragent you provided before you made your trip south, but this case may require more."

Tony could take no more of this. "Pep," he said, tucking her against his chest in a hug that let him bury his nose in her hair, "Pepper, I have to go to him. I-- I can't..."

Pepper huffed at him, her breath warm against the skin of his throat. "I don't like it. I just got you back. And now."

Don interceded with a hint of a smile audible in his voice. "No harm will come to him while he is with us, Maharani. If you wish you may join him. I suspect you are not fully recovered yet, yourself."

Tony could appreciate that suggestion, but he was pretty sure Pepper wouldn't take it. And Don's quiet reaffirmation that he knew how devoted they were to one another was another bit of balm on his ragged nerves. "I need to get to my workshop," he told her quietly.

She pulled back, but didn't break contact. "Then do it," she replied in kind, threading her hands through his hair and sliding them down to rest against his jaw. "But one of us needs to be available to run the kingdom."

"I almost lost you, too," he reminded her. "Stay safe."

Pepper caught his eyes and held them for a beat, and then pulled him in for a kiss that said far more than any words ever could have. It was fierce and reminded him so much of his desire to tumble her into bed that morning -- what seemed like an eternity ago -- that he was almost tempted to follow through on the spot and ravish her. The intensity of the moment had Don coughing uncomfortably into his fist long before Tony wanted it to end.

Breaking the kiss and stepping away with a long breath that was nearly a sigh, Tony forced himself to turn around and lead Don out of their quarters. It didn't take long for their paths to diverge. Tony hurried down to his workshop to make more of the counteragent Steve had given him the key to.

Irony of ironies, his Bonded had now also saved his own life, through that single act.

It didn't take long, once he was in his workshop and had locked the door behind him, for Tony to settle down to make some more of his counteragent. He wasn't sure whether it would have any effect on the other poisons in the mix, but he had to hope that either Erskine's cure-all did, or his healers could counter them.

At least now, he could _do something._ That helped immensely.

As did knowing that Don and the other healers had already used whatever they had left of his first batch of counteragent. Tony put his hand up to his tunic pocket and felt the slight crackle of the blood-stained parchment inside it. The test of the first batch had left the spot of blood on his tester permanently blue. It had never gone back to the rust red color it had started out with. Now, Tony was damned glad he'd kept a scrap safe. He could test this new batch. Now that he had Steve back, Tony didn't intend to leave him alone until he was back on his feet, and to hell with everything else.

Well, okay. Everything else except Pepper or Rhodey. He did need to make sure that his General got home safely.

But he didn't have any space to spare in his mind to think about things like his citizens' petty squabbles.

Luckily for his fraying nerves, it took less time to synthesise his counteragent and test it than it had last time. About an hour later, he had a fresh batch made up and tested, and was carrying it up to the healers' ward with his instincts doing their best to convince him he should be sprinting or flying.

Don's head shot up the moment he entered the space, and seemed to lock onto the vial Tony carried as though magnetised. "Is it ready?"

"It is. I'm done fighting to stay away. Do what you need to, but I'm... I need." Tony trailed off and scrubbed at his face.

Words failed him and Don huffed, looking almost amused. "You need to touch him," he said gently. "Go on. You'll both feel better."

Permission granted, Tony nodded. He didn't bother trying to say anything more, letting himself follow the dictates of his instincts at last. It was a relief to sit on the bed, with his hips beside Steve's broad shoulders, and take one of his Bonded's cold hands into his own.


	30. [Steve]

Awareness returned slowly, almost seeming to trickle over him like water, and he realised he had no idea where he was.

Steve didn't open his eyes for fear that he'd be... well, he wasn't even quite sure. But what he could determine of his current situation without seeing it wasn't adding up. The surface he was on felt a lot softer all of a sudden, and the restraints he thought he remembered fighting to break free of had somehow turned into a set of blankets.

He-- he'd taken the Commandos to Mahlibhu, hadn't he? He recalled arriving there and being welcomed by the Commandant. Being ambushed when he'd been fool enough to venture to the dining hall alone.

He recalled being tied down and told that he would be dosed with some new form of Extremis until he reached his limits.

There had been times when he'd thought he'd heard Tony trying to speak to him or comfort him, and he had the strangest memory of wind and sun on his face despite not being mounted. Nothing made any sense. Tony couldn't possibly have spoken to him if Steve had been in Mahlibhu. Tony had stayed at the Keep to help Pepper.

Had it all been a dream? Everything was very blurry.

A male voice he didn't recognise spoke, off to his left, and Steve had to fight not to react to it. "He should be waking soon, and then we can administer the remainder."

There was no reply, but Steve got the impression that someone had nodded in response.

That sounded ominous.

Steve had to force himself still again. He couldn't just leap out of bed and hope for the best. No, he needed to know where he was and what he was facing.

Taking a deep breath, as silently as he could, Steve tried to brace himself for what he might see.

A low rumble seemed to rise up to surround him, then, and surprise made Steve's eyes shoot open as he sat bolt upright. The pain that shot through his muscles at the sudden movement nearly forced him to give in to gravity's demands and let himself lie flat again with a low strangled sound.

That, unfortunately, triggered a fit of coughing, when his voice wouldn't cooperate.

The coughing _hurt_ , too. He felt like one big bruise, and the spasms left him feeling like the asthma he'd had so long ago had returned with a vengeance, as though trying to make up for the years he'd spent not worrying about it.

A scaled head shot up from where it had rested -- presumably on a pair of forelegs -- and Steve recognized Tony belatedly, when the dragon leaned in to nose at him. The low rumble intensified, and for a moment Steve thought dizzily that this definitely had to be a dream. When Tony's snout touched his chest, ever so gently, the pain caused by the coughing seemed to recede.

Maybe he was dead. Steve realised he couldn't hear the thuds and clangs that had been a constant, though distant, din ever since he'd woken to find himself secured to that table.

_You're not dead, Steve._

Now he was hearing Tony's voice. He'd missed that, and the warm, fond, amusement that it often carried. On the other hand, hearing it like this definitely meant he was either dead or crazy. He couldn't understand Tony when Tony was in his scales.

_Steve, are you alright?_ Tony sounded concerned, now, and nudged him harder.

The touch set off another coughing fit, and Steve quickly found himself gasping for air, wheezing and flat on his back again. When he managed to get his eyes open long enough to look at Tony, Steve got the distinct impression that Tony might try to somehow cram himself on the bed next to him. For his part, Steve wouldn't even have minded that, much, had Tony not been shifted. Before he could reply, a familiar figure walked into the room and spoke. "Oh, good," Peggy glared at him, "you're finally awake."

"Make him eat something," the unfamiliar male voice called out from the other room, and Tony nudged at him again.

It all felt pretty real. Maybe Tony was right. He hurt too much to be dead.

Peggy was nodding in response to the voice. "Laman, help him up, so he can swallow properly. I'll be back in a moment."

Tony's head cocked to the side in a clear nonverbal 'hmm', and then Steve found himself being carefully lifted off the bed until Tony could worm his chest in between Steve's back and the wall. The position left Steve lying against the surprisingly soft scales between Tony's forelegs, and made the bed creak ominously under their weight.

Steve wasn't about to protest, though. He was enjoying the contact; it was soothing, and seemed to stop the coughing fit in its tracks somehow.

Tony nosed at him again, and Steve reflexively caressed the scales of his snout. 

_Better?_ Tony leaned into the touch with a low pleased grumble.

Peggy reappeared with a tray heaped high with food and set it down in Steve's lap. "Eat up. You've been in and out of consciousness for nearly a week."

He eyed it dubiously. There was no way he'd be able to eat all that. Steve looked away from the tray and met her eyes again. Carefully clearing his throat, he tried to find words. "Where?" He managed.

"Back at the Keep. All of the team is here," she replied brusquely, knowing what he needed to hear. "It took us some time to regroup. Those Hydra assholes killed all of our Allies they could get their dirty slithery paws on," she spat.

Steve went still, and a very physical pang of pain went through him.

"We got even, Steve," she told him, her voice hard and more than a hint of vindictive pleasure in her tone. "We avenged them."

Tony wrapped him up more tightly in scales and warmth when Steve's eyes closed and his breathing went ragged with emotion. Steve would have fought to get free, if he'd had the strength.

"There's more," Peggy added after a beat. "You were declared killed in action, per regulations. Since most of the Commandos were missing or on assignment, command fell to me. You can reswear your oaths later, once you're recovered. But," she gave him a significant look, "you may wish to discuss that with the Laman, first."

Steve wasn't at all sure what to think anymore.

On the one hand, everything he'd thought he knew and loved had been torn away from him. His mount, his command, his friends and comrades. Even, if he decided so, his very home.

On the other, he had a chance, now. He had a chance to let Peggy keep command. To choose Tony, and an unknown future.

Peggy, he was sure, could read his indecision clearly. "Eat your meal, now. We can discuss the details later. You need to keep your strength up, so that you can heal all the damage those Hydra poisons did to you."

As she finished her sentence, one of the healers peered in. "Is--?" He started, then broke off. "Ah."

Peggy stepped over to him and drew him out of the room, initiating a conversation Steve couldn't quite make out. Neither of them sounded particularly worried, though, so Steve let them go without trying to insist they tell him what was going on. 

Tony distracted him with another nudge to his side, and Steve had to grab at the tray of food to keep it from spilling.

Without Peggy in the room to keep him talking, Steve found himself with little more to do than eat, and Tony was pretty obviously doing his nonverbal best to make him do just that. When Steve started putting food in his mouth, albeit slowly, Tony relaxed, curling around him loosely instead of nagging.

The moment Steve was finished eating, the healer from before -- now identified as the speaker who wanted to 'administer' things -- appeared in the doorway as though conjured. He glanced down at the tray and nodded in satisfaction. "Good," he commented. "Feel better?"

Unsurprisingly, he did. Steve nodded, wary. "Now what?"

The healer huffed. "Now, you let me put the rest of the counteragent the Laman created in you, and rest. And you, Laman, had best do the same."

Tony grumbled something.

The healer scowled as though he'd understood, for all that the comment had been made by a dragon. "I don't think so. You need the sleep as much as the Captain does."

Reassured slightly by the implication that Tony had been standing guard, and the very protective position Tony had taken up, curled around him, Steve acquiesced. He took a breath and nodded. "Fine. But only if you tell me your name."

The healer blinked, startled by the request, then approached with a laugh. "My name is Don. The only reason I am here, and not one of the other healers -- who are just as competent, thank you, Laman -- is your stubborn guard-dragon, who seems to trust no one else with your well-being."

Huh. Well, then. Steve ran his hand along Tony's snout again. "We definitely need to talk about some things," he told the idiot. "Later."


End file.
